The Lightning Thief Rewrite
by djrocks
Summary: this is a rewrite of the first Percy Jackson book, but with one major difference-percy has a twin sister named Cammie Jackson. the two are very close and are now in trouble with greek gods, and mytholgical monster that seemly want them dead. now it's up to them to find Zeus's stolen bolt, and return it before things get even WORSE
1. Chapter 1

_Rewrite of 1__st__ Percy Jackson book_

I ACCIDENTALLY VAPORIZE MY PRE-ALGEBRA TEACHER

Cammie: Look, we didn't ask to be half-bloods.

If you're reading this because you think you might be one, my brother—Percy—is going to give you some advice. Percy?

Percy: Oh, right, my turn. My advice: close this book right now and never, ever, pick it up again. Believe whatever lie your mom or dad told you about you birth, and try to lead a normal life.

Being a half-blood is dangerous. It's scary. Most of the time, it gets you killed in painful, nasty ways. Way no one wants to die.

Cammie: If you're a normal kid, reading this because you think it's fiction, good. Continue reading as though all of this isn't real. I envy you for that.

Percy: But if you recognize yourself in these pages—if you feel something stirring inside—stop reading immediately. You might be one of us. And once you know that, it's only a matter of time before _they_ realize it too, and come for you.

Cammie: as cool as it sounds to be one of us—and it is sometimes, I'll admit it—it's not worth the risk.

Percy: Don't say we didn't warn you.

Cammie: You want to start it off, Bro?

My name is Percy Jackson. Short for Perseus. My sister—twin sister—is named Cameron Jackson. Cammie for short.

We're twelve years old. Until a few months ago, we were boarding students at Yancy Academy, a private school for troubled kids in upstate New York.

Are we troubled?

Yeah, I guess you could say that. Cam prefers to think of artistically destructive.

I could start at any point in our short, quite miserable life to prove it, but things got really bad last May, when our 6th grade class went on a field trip to Manhattan—don't know what they were thinking, sending 28 'troubled' kids with only two teachers for supervision—one of them being in a wheelchair—to the Metropolitan Museum of art to look at a bunch of Greek and Roman stuff.

Sounds boring, right? Most Yancy field trips were.

But Mr. Brunner, our Latin teacher, was leading this trip, so I had high hopes.

Mr. Brunner was this middle-aged guy in a motorized wheelchair. He had thinning hair and a scruffy beard and a frayed tweed jacket, which always smelled like coffee. You wouldn't think he'd be cool, but he told stories and jokes and let us play games in class, and when people where being obnoxious, looked the other way while Cammie threw cut up pieces of an unfortunate pink eraser at them. He also had this awesome collection of Roman armor and weapons, so he was the only teacher whose class didn't put me to sleep.

I hoped that this trip would be okay. At least, I hoped that for once me and Cammie wouldn't leave with the promise of in school suspension.

Boy was I wrong.

See, bad things happen to us on field trips. Like at my fifth-grade school, when we went to the Saratoga battlefield, there was this accident with a Revolutionary War cannon. I wasn't aiming for the school bus (in all fairness, Cam was the one who aimed it), but of course we still got expelled. And before that, at our fourth-grade school, when we took a behind-the-scenes tour of the Marine World shark pool, Cammie leaned up against the wall… and kind of hit the lever on the catwalk and our class took an unplanned swim. And the time before that… well, you get the idea.

On this trip, Cammie and me were determined to be good; even if that meant we hat to tie our hands behind our backs and shove something in our mouths to keep us quite. We had the supplies in our backpacks, plus more. Just in case.

But it's hard to behave when Nancy Bobofit kept throwing peanut butter-and-ketchup sandwich at our buddy Grover.

Grover was an easy target. He was scrawny. He cried when he got frustrated. He must've been held back several grades, because he was the only sixth grader with acne and the start of a wispy beard on his chin. On top of all that, he was crippled. He had a note excusing him from PE for the rest of his life because he had some kind of muscular disease in his legs. He walked funny, like every step hurt him, but don't let that fool you. You should've seen him run when it was enchilada day in the cafeteria.

"I'm going to kill her," I muttered.

"Ooo," Cammie cooed evilly. "I'll help. How do you suppose we execute this plan? We could make it look like an accident. Ooo! Ooo! I still have that brick, you know, the one from when we were in fourth grade, and the school's kitchen blew up? Remember, I stole one of the bricks? We could use that to hit her over the head. Or death by peanut butter! It's twistedly ironic, like you see in all those crime shows. We'll just poison it or something, and wait for her to eat it and then _bam!_ No more Nancy Bobofit."

I looked at her, and cocked my head to the side. "You've thought about this before, haven't you?"

She nodded proudly.

"As, um… _nice _as that is guys," Grover said, a bit uncomfortable with Cammie's plans. "It's okay. I like peanut butter."

Cammie looked at him strangely. "In your hair?"

He shrugged as another piece hit him, blushing. You see, Grover used to have this huge—and I mean _huge_—crush on Cammie. He's gotten over it, now they were close, but he still got red in the face when she talked to him directly. And Cammie was, of course, clueless.

"That's it," I hissed. "Cam, back me up." She got up out of her seat, hopping over Grover who sat between us.

He grabbed Cam's arm, pulling her down. "No guys. Don't you remember? You're still on probation."

"Oh right," Cam mussed, tapping her chin.

"Still, punching her would at least tide me over till we're _off _probation," I muttered.

Looking back on it, I _really_ should have gone and decked her. That way we'd be suspended (seeing how the school seemed to think the two of us worked in pairs), and what happened next would never have occurred.

Mr. Brunner led the tour.

He rode up front in his wheelchair, guiding us through the big echoey galleries, past marble statues and glass cases full of really old black-and-orange pottery.

It blew my mind that this stuff had survived for two thousand, three thousand years. I watched as every piece of pottery, and marble made Cammie's eyes shine. While Cam could be a bit nonchalant, and intimidating at times, she was obsessed with some of the things we learned in class with Mr. Brunner. While she might not be able to read the stuff he taught us, you could just see that she was hooked on every story he told us.

Mr. Brunner gathered us around a thirteen-foot-tall stone column with a big sphinx on the top, and started telling us how it was a grave marker, a _stele_, for a girl about our age. He told us about the carvings on the sides. I was trying to listen to what he had to say, because it was kind of interesting, but everybody around me was talking, and every time I told them to shut up, the other teacher chaperone, Mrs. Dodds, would give me the evil eye.

Mrs. Dodds was this little math teacher from Georgia—Cam personally thinks she's from mars—who always wore a black leather jacket, even though she was fifty years old. She looked mean enough to ride a Harley right into you locker. She had come to Yancy halfway through the year, when our last math teacher had a nervous breakdown. Poor Ms. Gibens. She didn't stand a chance in this school. Most teachers don't. I've had three different science teacher this year. The school is currently looking for a new one.

From her fist day, Mrs. Dodds loved Nancy Bobofit and figured me and Cam were the spawn of the devil. It figures she would like her. Evil people attract. Mrs. Dodds would point her crooked finger at me and say, "Now, honey," real sweet, and I knew I was going to get after-school detention for a month.

Once Cammie told Nancy to shut up in class, and hand to sit in the math classroom erasing answers out of old math workbooks until midnight, and when she came back and told us she didn't think she was human, Grover had a serious look on his face and said, "You're absolutely right."

Mr. Brunner kept talking about Greek funeral art. Nancy snickered about the naked guy on the stele, and I decided I'd had enough. Spinning on her, I said, "Will you _shut up_?"

Okay, that came out a bit lauder then I hoped. Everyone started laughing. Mr. Brunner paused.

"Do you have a comment, Mr. Jackson?" He asked.

Cammie and Grover were still snickering. Cam was kind of glaring at Nancy, who looked like she had won some kind of battle. How she could be amused and angry at the same time was beyond me, but she managed it.

Facing Mr. Brunner, I answered his question. "No, Sir."

"Perhaps you'll tell us what this picture represents?" he asked pointing to one of the pictures on the stele. It was a good think I recognized it. "That's Kronos eating his kids, right?"

"Yes," he said, still not satisfied. "And why would he do this?"

"Well he was king god, and—"

"God?"

"Titan," Cammie reminded me quietly.

"Let him fix his own mistakes, Ms. Jackson," he said, raising his hand to stop her.

"Titan," I corrected myself. "and he didn't trust his kids so he ate them, but his wife hid baby Zeus, and when he was all grown up he tricked his dad into barfing out all his brothers and sisters—"

"Eeew!" some girl yelled.

"—and then there was a big fight between god and titan and the gods won."

"Hurray!" Cammie yelled, waving her hands in the air like she had just won the lottery. Everyone started laughing.

Behind me, Nancy whispered to her friend, "Like we're going to use this in real life. Like it's going to say on our job applications, 'Please explain why Kronos ate his kids'."

"And why," Mr. Brunner said, "to paraphrase Miss Bobofit's excellent question, does this matter in real life?"

"Busted," Grover and Cam sang in perfect unison.

"Shut up," Nancy hissed, her face even brighter than her hair.

At least she got packed, too. Mr. Brunner was the only teacher to ever catch Nancy saying something wrong. Got to love those radar ears of his.

I thought about his question but came up with nothing. I looked to Cammie for help. She shrugged. "I don't know, Sir."

"I see," he said, looking utterly disappointed in me. "Well, half credit, Mr. Jackson. Zeus did indeed feed Kronos a mixture of mustard and wine, which made him disgorge his other five children, who, of course, being immortal gods, had been living and growing up completely undigested in the Titan's stomach. The gods defeated their father, sliced him in to pieces with his own scythe, and scattered his remains in Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld. On that happy note, it's time for lunch. Mrs. Dodds, would you lead us back outside."

The class drifted off, the girls holding their stomachs, the guys pushing each other around and acting like doofuses.

Grover, Cam and me following behind everyone, ready to scarf down some food, when Mr. Brunner said, "Jacksons?"

"Darn should have seen that coming," Cammie hissed.

I elbowed her, and told Grover to keep going. "Yes sir?"

His eyes held mine, refusing to let me go—intense brown eyes that could've been a thousand years old and had seen everything.

"You two must learn the answer to my question," he said.

"About the Titans?"

"About real life. And how your studies apply to it. Especially what I teach you."

"Oh."

"I don't understand why I'm here," Cammie said. "You didn't ask me to answer your question. I might have known the answer."

"Than what's the answer, Miss Jackson?"

"I said _might_," she mumbled.

"What you learn from me," he said, going on, "Is vitally important. I expect you to treat it as such. I will accept only the best from you two."

Cammie swallowed hard—a tell-tail sign that she was trying to keep her mouth shut. I was angry too. This guy pushed us so hard.

I mean, sure, it was kind of cool on tournament days, when he dressed up in a suit of Roman armor and shouted: "What ho!" and challenged us, sword-point against chalk, to run to the board and name every Greek and Roman person who had ever lived, and their mother, and what god they worshipped. But Mr. Brunner expected us to be as good as everybody else, despite the fact that we had dyslexia and attention deficit disorder, and that we had never made anything above a C in our life. No—he didn't expect us to be _as good_; he expected us to be _better._ And we just couldn't learn all those names and facts, much less spell them correctly.

"We'll try harder, sir," I mumbled.

"Go out and eat your lunch," Mr. Brunner said, looking with sad eyes at the stele, as though he had been at this girl's funeral.

"At least he isn't treating us like all those other teachers," Cammie said.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"At least he treats us like we _can _actually learn something. That just because we have dyslexia and stuff that we can still be better then everyone else."

"But we _can't_," I said.

She wiggled her pointer finger. "Not with an attitude like that we can."

Laughing, I shoved her. "Whatever. It just gets on my nerves."

"Oh trust me, it gets on mine to, but as your _favorite_ sister, I must be the voice of reason in situations like this. I must see all the dark spots and turn them into _light!_"

"Of course," I nodded mockingly. "You are the giver of light!"

She nodded, smiling.

The class gathered on the front steps of the museum, where we could watch the foot traffic along Fifth Avenue.

Overhead, a huge storm was brewing, with clouds blacker then I'd ever seen over the city. I figured maybe it was global warming or something, because the weather all across New York state had been weird since Christmas. We'd had massive snow storms, flooding, wildfires from lighting strikes. I wouldn't have been surprised if this was a hurricane blowing in.

Nobody else seemed to notice. Some of the guys were pelting pigeons with Lunchables crackers. Nancy Bobofit was trying to pickpocket something from a lady's purse, and, of course, Mrs. Dodds wasn't seeing a thing.

Grove, Cam and I sat on the edge of the fountain, away from the others. We thought that maybe if we didn't that, everybody wouldn't know we were from _that _school—the school for loser freaks who couldn't make it elsewhere.

"Detention," Grover asked as we sat down.

"Mr. Brunner?" I scoffed.

"and Detention?" Cam laughed, finishing the sentence. "Never! Just a lecture."

I sighed. "Just wish he'd lay off sometimes."

"We're not _geniuses," _Cammie scoffed, momentarily quitting her job as the _light giver_.

Grover was quite. Usually, at times like this, when Cammie didn't feel like being the voice of reason, Grover stood up, and gave us some deep philosophical comment to make us feel better, but he said, "Can I have your apple?"

I wasn't very hungry, so I tossed him my apple.

"Why you so silent, brother," Cam asked in the strange voice she always used to make me laugh.

"I have a bad feeling, Sis," I uttered, ignoring her attempt, looking around.

I watched the stream of cabs going down Fifth Avenue, and thought about my mom's apartment, only a little ways uptown from where we sat. I hadn't seen her since Christmas. I wanted so badly to go see her. She'd hug me and be glad to see me, but she'd be disappointed, too. She'd send me right back to Yancy, reminding me that I had to try harder, even if this was my sixth school in six years and I was probably going to be kicked out again. I wouldn't be able to stand that sad look she'd given me.

"Thinking about mom?" Cammie asked, a sad look in her eyes. She was staring out at the road too.

"Yeah. You too?"

She nodded. "You think she'd hate me if I left this school and never came back?"

"I don't think mom could ever hate you, Cam." I looked down at her. She was only a little smaller than me, but I was up one step, making me taller. "Are you planning on running away?"

Grover turned to us, a startled look on his face. He knew better than to barge in on times were me and Cam we having deep conversations like this, but I could tell he wanted to.

"Maybe," she shrugged. "I would if you came with." She leaned forward, looking at Grover. "You too buddy."

"Me? running away?" Grover stuttered. "I don't know."

Cammie sighed.

I slid down a step, and put an arm around her. "I'd go with ya."

She smiled, hugging me. "I know. You can't live without me." She sighed again. "I won't though. I don't want to disappoint mom."

Giving her a small squeeze, I let her go.

Mr. Brunner parked his wheelchair at the base of the handicapped ramp. He ate celery while he read a paperback novel. A red umbrella stuck up from the back of his chair, making it look like a motorized café table.

In the corner of my eye, I saw Cammie steel the apple from Grover, seemingly over the whole running away thing, taking his peanut butter jar, using her spoon to spread peanut butter all over the apple, staring off the Nancy as she came closer.

Nancy and her mob of friends stopped right in front of us, smiling cruelly. Then, she dumped her lunch all over Grover. "Opps," she giggled.

I don't remember touching her. I don't remember Cammie touching her ether. And I know for a _fact_ that Grover didn't push Nancy into the fountain.

"They pushed me!" Nancy screamed.

Mrs. Dodds materialized next to us.

"Who pushed you?" she asked, staring intently at me and Cammie.

"Them!" Nancy yelled, pointing at us.

Some of the kids were whispering: "did you see—"

"—the water—"

"—like it grabbed her—"

"They didn't even touch her," one girl said to herself, mesmerized.

I didn't know what they were talking about. All I knew was I was in trouble again.

As soon as Mrs. Dodds was sure poor little Nancy was okay, promising to get her a new shirt at the museum gift shop, etc., etc., Mrs. Dodds turned on us. There was a triumphant fire in her eyes, as if I'd done something she'd been waiting for all semester. "Now, Honey—"

Cammie groaned. "Yeah, yeah, we get it. A month erasing workbooks. Yada, yada, yada."

Really Cam? Really?

"Come with me," she said.

"Wait!" Grover yelped, looking afraid for his life. "It was me. _I _pushed her."

Mrs. Dodds glared at him so hard, I'm sure is she glared any harder, lasers would shoot out of her eyes, leaving Grover with a hole in his head.

"I don't think so, Mr. Underwood," she said.

"But—"

"You—will—stay—_here_."

Grover looked at me desperately.

"It's okay, man," I told him. "We'll be fine. Thanks for trying."

"Honey," Mrs. Dodds barked. "_Now._"

Nancy Bobofit smirked.

I gave her my deluxe I'll-kill-you-later stare. Cammie gave her something better. Looking down at the peanut butter covered apple in her hand, she shrugged as if saying "I can't get into more trouble then I already am", and then proceeded to throw in at Nancy, hitting her head. The peanut butter stuck for all of a second before falling to the ground. The look of utter disbelief was hilarious.

Stifling a laugh, I turned to face Mrs. Dodds, but she wasn't there. She was standing at the museum entrance, way at the top of the steps, gesturing impatiently at me to come on.

How'd she get there so fast?

I have moments like that a lot, when my brain falls asleep or something, and the next thing I know I've missed something, as if a puzzle piece fell out of the universe and left me staring at the blank place behind it. The school counselor told me this was part of the ADHD, my brain misinterpreting things.

I wasn't so sure.

I looked to Cam. She nodded at me. It happened to her too.

I went after Mrs. Dodds.

Halfway up the steps, I glanced back at Grover. He was looking pale, butting his eyes between me and Mr. Brunner, like he wanted Mr. Brunner to notice what was going on, but Mr. Brunner was absorbed in his novel.

"He worries too much," Cammie sighed. "What does he think she's going to do? Eat us?"

I shrugged. "He's a worry-wart. What did you expect?"

"Confidence in us to defend ourselves from children-eating witches," she snickered.

"Don't let the children-eating witch hear you say that," I whispered.

I looked back up. Mrs. Dodds had disappeared again. She was not inside the building, at the end of the entrance hall.

"How much do you think a t-shirt costs here?" Cammie asked, pulling one dollar bills from her pocket, assuming we were going to have to buy Nancy a new shirt at the gift shop.

"Ten."

But apparently that wasn't the plan.

I followed her deeper into the museum. When I finally caught up to her, we were back in the Greek and Roman section.

Except for us, the gallery was empty.

Cammie stopped suddenly, worry on her face. Is she bi-polar or what?

"You know that bad feeling you were having earlier," Cammie asked, leaning in to whisper in my ear.

"Yeah?"

"I just got it too."

Mrs. Dodds stood with her arms crossed in front of a big marble frieze of the Greek gods. She was making this weird noise in her throat, like growling.

Even without the noise, I would've been nervous. It's weird being alone with a teacher, especially Mrs. Dodds. Something about the way she looked at the frieze, as if she wanted to pulverize it…

"You've been giving us problems, Honey," she said, turning on us. "That's going to change."

Thinking that maybe saying that we didn't do _anything_ wasn't the best idea, I took the safe road, and said, "Yes, Ma'am."

Mrs. Dodds started making that weird noise again, and it was really starting to scare me. But it was _terrifying _Cammie.

Cam grabbed my hand, moving behind me, using me as a shield. "_Percy,_" she hissed, gripping my hand tighter. I looked at her, wondering what got her in such a tizzy. Sure, Mrs. Dodds was scary, but not _that _scary.

Mrs. Dodds tugged on the cuffs of her leather jacket. "Did you really think you were going to get away with it?"

The look in her eyes were beyond mad. They were evil.

Cammie tugged on my hand again. "_Percy_."

"_What_," I snapped, feeling bad about it limitedly.

Cammie didn't mind though. "Let's _go_," she pleaded. "_Please_ Percy. I don't want to be here. She looks strange. She don't look _human_."

"She's not going to hurt us," I said softly, ignoring the human comment.

"_Percy_—"

"Did you really think you could get away with it?" Mrs. Dodds intruded. "Did you really thing no one would find out?"

I gave her a confused look. "What do you mean?"

She stared growling again, causing Cammie to plant her face in my back, like she always did when we watched scary movies. I looked back at her, than when I looked back, Mrs. Dodds was gone.

Thunder shook the building.

"It was only a matter of time till you were found out," she said from behind me, and when I turned, she was on top of one of the display cases. "We are no fools, Percy Jackson."

Cammie grabbed my hand and I started following her. This was just too much. Someone must have slipped something into my sandwich.

"Where is it?"

I didn't know what she was talking about. All I could think of was that the teachers must've found the illegal stash of candy I'd been selling out of my dorm room. Or maybe they'd realized I got my essay on _Tom Sawyer _the internet instead of writing it myself, and now they were going to make me redo it. Or worse. They'd make me _read the book._

"Well?" she demanded.

"Look, I don't know _what _we did, but whatever you're—"

"_Time's up_," she hissed, smiling.

That's when the weirdest thing of all time happened. Her eyes began to glow like barbecue coals. Her fingers stretched, turning into talons. Her jacket melted into large, leathery wings. She wasn't human, that was for sure (Wow, Cam hit the nail on the head on that one). She was a shriveled hag with bat wings and claws and a mouth full of yellow fangs, and she was about to slice us to ribbons.

Then things got even stranger.

Mr. Brunner, who'd been out in t front of the museum a minute before, wheeled his chair into the doorway of the gallery, holding a pen in each hand.

"What ho, Jacksons!" he shouted, and tossed the pens to both me and Cammie.

Mrs. Dodds lunged at me first.

Yelling my name, Cammie pushed me to the ground, throwing herself to the other side of the room to avoid the monster that used to be our Pre-algebra teacher.

Snatching the ballpoint pen out of the air, I covered my head with my hands, almost cutting my head off. 'Cause when the pen hit my hand, it wasn't a pen anymore. It was a _sword. _ A _sword!_ I looked to Cammie, who also had a sword in hand, giving me a bewildered look.

Standing, my knees felt like jelly, almost making me drop the sword.

"It's a Fury!" Cammie yelled from the other side of the room.

"A what?" I asked.

She rolled her eyes. "A _Furry!_ Greek mythology! Ring any bells? Unlike you, I actually paid attention in class!"

"Hurtful," I muttered, then remembered that there was a huge leathery monster about to rip me to pieces with her razor sharp talons.

"_Die honey!" _Mrs. Dodds cackled loudly.

As she came at me, I turned my head away, swinging the sword around wildly. Mrs. Dodds tried clawing at me, but the blade of the sword kept getting in the way of her making me into confetti.

The next thing I know, Cammie's behind Mrs. Dodds, hacking at her wings.

"_AH!" _Mrs. Dodds yelled, one of her wings hanging to her back uselessly.

"LEAVE US ALONE!" Cam yelled.

Swinging her arm at Cammie, she yelled in rage. Cammie went flying to the other side of the room, hitting her head on the foot of a statue of Poseidon.

Mrs. Dodds laughed as though the action amused her. She flew over to Cammie, fast as lightning, even with her useless wing.

"_You're father cannot save you now, Honey," _she hissed. "_You _will _die now!"_

Cammie, distracted by what she said, looked up at her with confused eyes. "_What?"_

"CAMMIE!" I yelled, running over to her. _Use you're sword, Cam! _I yelled in my mind. I raised my sword, knowing even if Cammie could read my mind, she'd never have her sword up and ready to use before Mrs. Dodds tore her apart. Pointing the tip at Mrs. Dodds back, I held it tight, pushing it into her. It sliced into her like she was made of water. Cammie gasped.

_Hissss…._

Mrs. Dodds was a sand castle in a power fan. She exploded into yellow powder, vaporized on the spot, leaving nothing but the smell of sulfur and a dying screech and a chill of evil in the air, as if those two glowing red eyes were still watching me. As the smoke cleared, I saw Cammie laying on the floor, propped up on her elbows, the sword's tip almost touching her nose.

I looked around.

We were alone.

The sword wasn't a sword anymore. It was a pen again.

Mr. Brunner wasn't there. Nobody but me and Cam.

I looked to Cammie to see if she was in the same state of confusion as me. Looking down at her, I saw Cammie sobbing. I dropped the pen, and bent down on my knees.

"Are you okay, Cam?" I asked. "Are you hurt?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm not okay! I'm not hurt, but I'm not okay ether!" She flung her arms around me, shoving her head into the crook of my neck. "What just happened, Percy? Did that really happen?"

I put my arms around her, looking around again, as if Mrs. Dodds was going to pop out now, and kill us. "I'm not sure. You said it was a Fury?"

"That's mythology!" she wailed. "It's all myths!"

I nodded. "Maybe it's something that we ate."

She pulled away to look at me. "But you saw it too, right? It wasn't just me? You saw the creature too?"

I nodded. "Maybe we share a brain?" I joked, hoping to make her laugh.

She let out a choked laugh, and hugged me again. "I hope not. Then you'd know all my evil plans."

Smiling, I pulled her up. "Come on. Let's go."

"Now you want to go!" she said, rolling her eyes. "Why didn't you listen to me _before_?"

I pulled her by the arm out of the room, rolling my eyes too. But I had to ask myself:

Did I imagine it? Did Cammie imagine it too? Was it all just a figment of our imagination?

"Here, give me your pen," I told her, holding out my hand to her.

She handed it over, and I looked it over. It _looked _normal.

We went back outside.

It had started to rain.

Grover was sitting by the fountain, a museum map tented over his head. Nancy was still standing there, soaked from her swim in the fountain, grumbling to her ugly friends. When she saw us, she said, "I hope Mrs. Kerr whipped your guy's butts!"

I cocked my head to the side. "Who?"

"Our _teacher_.

"You mean Mrs. Dodds," Cammie asked, her tough façade back on.

"No stupid!" Nancy yelled back. "Mrs. _Kerr."_

"Who's Mrs. Kerr," I asked Cam. She shrugged.

We walked over to Grover.

"Who's Mrs. Kerr?" I asked.

He paused first, not looking at ether one of us, so I thought he was messing with us. "Not funny man," I said. "This is serious."

Thunder boomed, and I was sure lightning would light up the sky like it usually did. But it didn't.

I saw Mr. Brunner sitting under his red umbrella, reading his book, as if he'd never moved.

I walked over to him, Cammie's voice telling Grover to answer my question in the background.

He looked up, a little distracted. "Ah, those would be my pens. Please bring your own writing utensil in the future, Mr. Jackson. That goes for Cameron too. Do please pass on the massage."

I handed back his pens, not realizing it was still in my hand.

"Sir," I asked, slightly afraid of the answer. "Where's Mrs. Dodds?"

He stared at me blankly. "Who?"

"The other chaperone. Mrs. Dodds. The pre-algebra teacher."

He frowned and sat forward, looking mildly concerned. "Percy, there is no Mrs. Dodds on this trip. As far as I know, there has never been a Mrs. Dodds at Yancy Academy. Are you feeling all right?"

"No, Sir. I'm not."

**Yay! First chapter finished! I'm trying to stir away from it being so much like the book. Next chapter will be Cammie's pov. Can't wait!**

**Okay, I don't normally do this—in fact I haven't done this at all till this fanfiction. All the characters, except Cam and later on characters, and settings belong to Rick Riordan, and Ally Carter owns Cammie, and some of the content later in this story. I don't do disclaimers mainly because the website clearly says fanfiction, meaning that the ideas and characters belong to a published author or producer. But because I'm **_**rewriting **_**the first Percy Jackson book, and using a lot of Rick's work, I thought I'd better give him a huge chunk of credit.**

**I won't be updating this for a while, mainly because I have two other stories to finish up, but I just wanted to get this first chapter out to some awaiting readers, and see what people think of it. I know it sounds a lot like the book, but I'm stirring away after this. I just wanted to get a clear into to some of the characters and settings. **

**Hope you enjoyed! I'll update as soon as possible.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I updated early! I wasn't planning on giving you another chapter until I was finished with my other stories, but then I started planning, and writing for the next chapter, and though, "Well maybe I could…" so here it is! I won't be updating until I have updated my other stories, which I think is fair, so yeah. Enjoy! This chapter is in Cammie's pov. It'll switch every chapter. Percy will take odd chapters, Cam even.**

* * *

THREE OLD LADIES KNIT THE SOCKS OF DEATH

Weird experiences are my life. I can't go a week without some strange, unexplainable thing happening to me. I've learned to live with the constant hallucinations, and bizarre happenings. But Mrs. Dodds wasn't some outlandish illusion. I may imagine things, but only for a second or two. A minute at the most. Never for months on end! It just doesn't happen. Not to mention Percy saw her—it—too.

Maybe there never was this big leathery man eating creature from my Greek mythology textbooks, but there was an evil math teacher for sure. I knew for a fact that I had never seen bubbly, blond haired Mrs. Kerr before we got back onto the bus that day. It seemed that no one knew who Mrs. Dodds was. It was as though she didn't exist.

Once and a while I'd spring a Mrs. Dodds reference on someone, waiting to see if someone would finally trip, but they'd ether ask "Who?" or look at me like I was insane.

Maybe I was.

I almost started believing them. I know Percy wanted to. But there was still one big factor that tripped my, "something-smells-fishy-o-meter".

Grover.

He couldn't lie to save his life. Not to me, not to Percy, not to anybody. Don't get me wrong. He did a good job trying. This was his best lie yet. I almost believed he was telling the truth. But he hesitated to say, "There is no Mrs. Dodds." He couldn't look me in the eye, and his ears would twitch, like he had to itch them.

I told him I know he was hiding something from me and Percy, but he wouldn't budge.

Needless to say, it got on Percy and I's nerves. A lying friend? Is there really anything worse? I was cranky and angry all the time. My grades slipped and got worse—even if they were terrible in the first place. Even Percy—responsible, more mature—by far—Percy, was upset. He snapped at Mr. Nicoll when the old man asked why he was too lazy to study for spelling tests. "Because!" he yelled. "I'm a dysfunctional, troubled kid! Why else would I be here you old sot!?" I fell to the ground—literally—laughing.

As hilarious as that was, a letter from the headmaster sent to mom made it official: Percy and I weren't welcome back. We were too troubled for them.

Like I cared.

I was homesick.

I missed mom.

I didn't care if I went to public school, or had to live with my wicked step-father, and his stupid all night poker parties.

I'd miss some parts of Yancy though. Like the Hudson river in the distance, or the distinct smell of pine when I opened the windows in the morning, much to my roommate—Missy—'s dismay. I'd miss Grover—even with all that he'd been doing—and how'd he'd survive this place without me and Percy there to protect him from red freckled bullies with the name that started with N and ended with _ancy._

I know I'd miss Latin class and Mr. Brunner. It was the only class I didn't want to fail. I'd miss tournament days, and his faith in us, like we could actually make something of ourselves one day. I actually studied for that class, never forgetting how he said his class would mean life of death for us. And after Mrs. Dodds, I was starting to believe him.

* * *

I studied for the Latin final, but that didn't mean I understood andy of the notes I took. Throwing my textbook across the room, I crossed my arms over my chest, pouting like a child.

"God, what's wrong with you?" Missy hissed, her silver nose ring wiggling. "You have problems."

"I would think you do too, seeing how you're _here,"_ I said, rolling my eyes.

"At least I'm coming back," she retaliated.

I smiled, evilly. "I don't mind not coming back. At least I'll be free from this prison."

I could tell she didn't disagree.

Sighing, I got up, picking up my textbook. Me and Missy didn't get along well, but I guess you could say I'd miss her too. Even if her hard rock metal music did keep me and all the other girls up at night. (I actually started to like metal music after her)

I left our room, my textbook under my arm. I was heading to Percy's room. Maybe we could throw our textbooks at his walls together.

I was rounding the corner, heading to the boys wing, when I saw Grover sneaking about. Pulling into the shadows, I watched him for a second. He seemed jittery, and nervous. He looked both ways before crossing the hallway.

All of a sudden, following Grover sounded more fun tossing Latin books. I smiled. I felt especially James Bond at the moment. No one but Percy knew it, but I made a good spy. I could blend, even when at times I could be anything but. If it was realistic, I'd become a spy. I think I'd be pretty good at it.

I shook my head. Becoming a spy was a stupid idea. I could never achieve anything as cool as that. Back to the case at hand.

I followed him, tip-toeing down the empty halls. The halls were dark, and soon I lost Grover. Sighing, I noticed Mr. Brunner's room down the hall, the light on and the door ajar. I sighed. I might have failed to tail Grover, but I could get help for my test while I was here.

Standing outside the door, I lifted my hand to knock, but stopped when I heard Grover's voice.

"...worried about them, Sir."

I froze. who? Percy and me?

I'm not usually a eavesdropper (okay that's a lie) but I dare you to try not listening in if you hear your best friend talking about you and your brother to an adult.

I moved closer.

"…alone this summer,' Grover was saying. "I mean, a Kindly One in the _school_!" now that we know for sure, and _they _know too—"

"We would only make matter worse by rushing them," Mr. Brunner said. "We need the boy to mature more."

"But they may not have time! The summer solstice deadline—"

"Will have to be resolved without the Jacksons, Grover. Let the two enjoy the ignorance while they still can."

"Sir, they _saw _her…"

"Imagination," Mr. Brunner insisted. "The Mist over the students and staff will be enough to convince them of that."

I narrowed my eyes at him through the door. I knew it. I _knew_ it.

"I can't fail again, sir," Grover chocked. For the smallest of seconds, I felt bad, though I didn't know why exactly. "You know what that would mean. I can't fail them."

"You haven't failed, Grover," Mr. Brunner said kindly. "I should have seen her for what she was. Now let's just worry about keeping the Jacksons alive until next fall—"

_Keep us alive!?_

I dropped my textbook, to stunned to notice anything at first.

Mr. Brunner went silent.

My heart hammering, I picked up the book, and backed down the hall as slowly as possible. I got around the corner as I heard Mr. Brunner say, "It's nothing, Grover. I believe we are just stressed. Don't let what's happening with the winter solstice get to you."

"I guess you're right, Sir," Grover sighed. "I just never know when to be worried it's a real threat or not."

"Go back to the dorm," Mr. Brunner told him. "You've got a long day of exams tomorrow."

Grover groaned. "Don't remind me."

"Don't worry about the Jacksons. You will not fail them." He paused. "Sometime I think of _them as one person."_

_"'They are of the same whole'_," Grover said, as though he was quoting someone.

"Go now. I'll see you tomorrow."

I heard them starting to move again, and ran to Percy's room. Swinging open the door, I jumped in, making sure to slam the door closed before saying, "Grover was lying."

Percy was laying on his bed, a Latin text book in front of him.

"You proved he was lying?" he asked, sitting up.

Sitting next to him I told him everything that had happed in the last five minutes. He soaked it all in like sponge, not saying anything until the end. "What's the summer solstice?" he asked.

I shrugged. "I'm more curious as to what they think is going to kill us."

"I doubt Grover would tell us anything if we asked him."

"I say we just keep this to ourselves as long as we can."

"Shouldn't we tell someone about how our Latin teacher, and our best friend think that we're going to die soon?"

"They'll only deny it, what's the point? One troubled student's testament against her teacher? It'll never go anywhere."

He nodded, and was about to say something but the door opened, and Grover walked in.

All was silent.

"Hey Cam, come to study with us?" he smiled.

"doesn't look like you were studying," I quipped.

"Just took a quick break," he clapped his hands. "But I'm ready to get back at it."

Me and Percy forced a smile.

"It's crazy how much you two look alike," Grover said, shaking his head.

"Identical twins, Grover," Percy said.

Grover looked us over. "You look terrible, Cam. What's wrong?"

I looked down at my feet. "Tired."

"Maybe you should go to bed," he said. "I'm sure you won't do to bad tomorrow."

I looked to Percy as I stood.

_Good luck, bro,_ I thought. _you'll need it._

_I know,_ a voice in my head said, but I know it wasn't my own.

Flinching at the sudden voice, I wondered if I said that aloud. But Grover didn't seem to have heard anything.

But Percy had.

He looked at me as though he was as surprised as me.

I quickly left the room.

* * *

When I got back to my room, I pulled out my computer. I pulled up Google, and looked up Summer Solstice. It was hard because I couldn't read it with my Dyslexia. I looked at Missy, and made a quick disision.

"Hey, Missy, can you read this for me?" I asked.

She glared at me. "Why would I do that?"

I pulled out five bucks. "I'll give you this if you do."

"Deal!" she giggled, jumping off her bed, and onto mine. "Gimmy.

_"The summer solstice occurs exactly when the axial tilt of a planet's semi-axis in a given hemisphere is most inclined towards the star that it orbits. Earth's maximum axial tilt to our star, the Sun, during a solstice is 23° 26'. This happens twice each year, at which times the Sun reaches its highest position in the sky as seen from the North or South Pole respectively. The summer solstice is the solstice that occurs in a hemisphere's summer. In the Northern Hemisphere this is the Northern solstice, in the Southern Hemisphere this is the Southern solstice. Depending on the shift of the calendar, the summer solstice occurs some time between December 20 and December 23 each year in the Southern Hemisphere and between June 20 and June 22 in the Northern Hemisphere in reference to UTC. Though the summer solstice is an instant in time, the term is also colloquially used like Midsummer to refer to the day on which it occurs. Except in the polar regions (where daylight is continuous for many months), the day on which the summer solstice occurs is the day of the year with the longest period of daylight._ _Worldwide, interpretation of the event has varied among cultures, but most have held a recognition of sign of the fertility, involving holidays, festivals, gatherings, rituals or other celebrations around that time. The word solstice derives from Latin sol (sun) and sistere (to stand still)._

"There, I read it, now give me my five bucks."

I handed it to her, and looked at the screen. It didn't tell me much about what I had heard, but I wasn't supposed to know about it in the first place, so I really couldn't complain.

* * *

I failed. I knew it did. I'd misspelled so many of those Roman, and Greek names there was no way I was going to pass. Percy was done the same time I was, and you could tell: he was just as disappointed as me.

"Jacksons," Mr. Brunner said, calling us back in.

"I didn't cheat, Sir!" was the first thing I said, hoping that he was accusing me of that instead of eavesdropping. A few giggles erupted from the class.

"No, no, I know, but we do need to talk."

Me and Percy exchanged glances.

"Jacksons," he said kindly. "Don't be discouraged about leaving Yancy. It's…it's for the best."

My eyes widened. He could say it anyway he liked, it was embarrassing. He spoke quietly, but with everyone still testing, it echoed as though he was yelling. I could just feel Nancy smirking at my back, burning little holes into my shirt.

"Okay, Sir," Percy mumbled.

"I mean…" Mr. Brunner wheeled his chair back and forth, like he wasn't sure what to say. "This isn't the right place for you. It was only a matter of time."

Tears formed in my eyes, and I forced myself to look down. I'd never let him see me cry.

Here was my favorite teacher, in front of the class, telling me us we weren't cut out for this. After all his lecturing and nagging us that we could do it, we could be just like everyone else, he basically tells us there wasn't any hope for us.

"Right," I said. "You're right, Sir. There is no hope for us, is there?"

"No, no," Mr. Brunner said. "Oh, confound it all. what I'm trying to say… you'r not normal, you two. That's nothing to be—"

"Ashamed of?" I questioned. "Like I haven't heard that before. Anyway, thank you, Sir, for reminding us of that lovly thought. I'm sure we'll keep that in mind."

"Cammie—"

I tore out of the room, not letting him finish.

I heard footsteps behind me, I looked back at Percy. "Can you believe that?" I asked. "After all the things he's said all year long, can you believe that?"

Percy shook his head. "I don't know, Cam. But let's not let this change anything, kay? We're going home. for now, that's all I care about. Let's just forget that happened."

"I don't think I'll be able to, Percy." I shook my head. "Let's go. We still have to pack."

* * *

I put my last sweatshirt in my suitcase and zipped it up.

"I'm going to the Caribbean," a friend of Missy's said, laying down on her bed. "We're going snorkeling."

"I'm going Paris," another one said. I think her name was Kris.

"What about you, Cam," Haley, Missy's best friend, asked me, smiling. I smiled back. I kind of liked her. She was nice. That, and her hair was all the colors of the rainbow.

"I'm going back to the city," I said.

"Boring!" Missy groaned.

"Quite, Miss," Haley sighed. "Not everyone has big and elaborate trips."

I didn't tell them that I'd be spending half my summer walking dogs, or selling magazine subscriptions, and worrying about my next prison school.

I dreaded having to say goodbye to Grover, but as it turned out, I didn't have to. He'd booked a ticket to Manhattan on the same Greyhound as I had, so there we were, together again, heading into the city like the three musketeers.

I watched during the whole bus ride as Grover kept glancing nervously down the aisle, watching the other passengers, as though they were going to jump up and grab him. he'd always been nervous and fidgety since we left Yancy. Before, I'd always assumed he was worried about getting teased. But there was no one to tease him on the Grayhound.

Finally I couldn't stand it anymore.

"Looking for Kindly ones," I said.

Percy hit my shoulder.

Grover nearly jumped out of his seat. "Wha-what do you mean? Kindly ones? What's a kindly one?"

Percy sighed. "Cam heard what you and Mr. Brunner were saying that night before the exam about us."

Grover's eyes widened. "How much did you hear?"

"Not too much," I said. "When's the summer solstice deadline?"

He winced. "I'm just worried about you two," he said. "I mean, hallucinations about demon math teachers…"

"Grover…" I started, narrowing my eyes.

"And I told Mr. Brunner that maybe you were overstressed or something, because there was no such person as Mrs. Dodds, and…"

"I heard the conversation, Grover!" I hissed loudly. "You think you can lie to us much longer?"

His ears turned pink.

He fished something out from his shirt pocket. A little mucky business card. "Just take this, okay? In case you need me this summer."

The inscription on the card, and it took me a while with my dyslexia, but finally I made out something like this:

_Grover Underwood_

_Keeper_

_Half-Blood Hill_

_Long Island, New York_

_(800) 009-0009_

"What's Half—" Percy started to say.

"Don't say it aloud!" he yelped, then snapped his mouth such. "that's my, um… summer address."

I looked at Percy, sadly. A summer home. I'd never considered that Grover's family might be as rich as the others at Yancy.

"Okay," I say, clearing my throat of all it's sadness. "Si, like, if we want to visit your mansion, or something?"

He nodded. "or… if you need me."

"Why would we need you?" Percy asked. it came out harsh; harsher then I think he meant it to be.

Grover blushed right down to his Adam's apple. "Look, Percy, the truth is, I—I kind of have to protect you two."

At that moment, I could see the conversation going on between the two. Grover was a good friend of mine, but Percy and him were closer for sure. I felt betrayed by all of Grover's secrets, but Percy felt deceived. As though their whole friendship was a lie. He'd gotten into fights, kept the bullies away from him. He'd lost sleep worrying that he'd get beaten up next year without him. And here Grover was lying, and acting like the one who defended _him._

"Grover," I said, trying to take Percy's heavy gaze off him. "What exactly are you protecting us from? We need to know," I said.

There was a huge grinding noise under our feet. Black smoke poured from the dashboard, and the whole bus filled with a smell like rotten eggs. The driver cursed and limped the Greyhound over to the side of the road.

We were on a stretch of country road—no place you'd notice if you didn't break down there. On our side of the highway was nothing but a maple trees and litter from passing cars. On the other side, across four lanes of asphalt shimmering with afternoon heat, was an old-fashioned fruit stand.

The stuff on sale looked really good: heaping boxes of bloodred cherries and apples, walnuts and apricots, jugs of cider in a claw-foot tub full of ice. There were no customers, just three old ladies sitting in rocking chairs in the shade of a maple tree, knitting the biggest pair of socks I'd ever seen.

All three woman looked ancient, with pale faces wrinkled like fruit leather, silver hair tied back in white bandannas, bony arms sticking out of leached cotton dresses.

The weirdest thing was, they seemed to be looking between me and Percy.

"Man those cherries look good," I mumbled. "I want some. Anyone else?

I looked over at Grover to ask him if he wanted any, and saw that the blood had drained from his face. His nose was twitching.

"Grover?" Percy asked. "Hey, man—"

"Tell me they're not looking at you guys. They are, aren't they?"

"Yeah," I laughed a bit. "Weird, huh? You think we could fit you into one of those socks, Perc?"

Percy laughed. "Not funny, Cam," Grover muttered. "Not funny at all."

"Come on, Grover, it's not like they're serial killers or anything."

The old lady in the middle took out a huge pair of scissors—gold and silver, long-bladed, like shears. I heard Grover catch his breath.

"We're getting on the bus," he told me. "Come on."

"What?" I yelped. "Do you know how hot it is in there?"

"come on!" he pried open the door and climbed inside, but I stayed back.

"Yeah, Grover, it's too hot," Percy said.

"Two against one. Come on out," I said.

"You two are twins, and you act like one person, so you count as one. And I'm older, so my vote overrules yours," he retaliated.

I turned my back to the bus, ignoring him. across the road, the old ladies were still watching us. The middle one cut the yarn, and I swear I could hear that _snip_ across four lanes of traffic. Her two friends balled up the electric-blue cocks, leaving me wondering who they could possibly be for—Sasquatch or Godzill?

At the rear of the bus, the driver wrenched a big chunk of smoking metal out of the engine compartment. The bus shuddered, and the engine roared back to life.

There was a loud cheer from the passengers.

"Darn right!" yelled the diver. He slapped the bus with his hat, a victorious grin on his face. "Everybody back on board!"

Once we got going, I started feeling feverish, as if I'd caught the flu. "Percy, I don't feel good," I mumbled. Percy took his sweatshirt, and folded it into a pillow, and put it on his shoulder, nodding for me to rest my head there.

Grover didn't look much better. He was shivering and his teeth were chattering.

"Grover?"

"Yeah?"

"What aren't you telling us?"

He dabbed his forehead with his shirt sleeve. "What did you see back at the fruit stand, Cam?"

"You mean the old ladies? What is it about them? They're not… like Mrs. Dodds, right?" if they were, I'd be half way to the hills before he could say yes.

His expression was hard to read, but I got the feeling that the fruit-stand ladies were something much, much worse then Mrs. Dodds. He said, "Just tell me what you saw."

"yummy fruits, nuts, socks?" I shrugged.

"The middle one took out her scissors, and she shut the yarn," Percy said.

He closed his eyes and made a gesture with his fingers that might've been crossing himself, but it wasn't. it was something else, something almost—older.

"Hey, Grover, do that again," I muttered, becoming tired.

He looked down at me, and shrugged, as though saying, _what's there to lose? _He did it again, and I copied him. "cool," I said. "What's it mean?"

"Nothing," he said softly. He sighed. "So you saw her snip the cord."

"Yeah. So?" but even as I said it, I knew it was a big deal.

"This is not happening," he groaned. He started chewing his thumb. "I don't want this to be like the last time."

"What last time," Percy asked, sitting up straighter, jolting me. Muttering a sorry, he turned back to Grover.

"Sixth grade," Grover moaned. "Always the sixth grade."

"Grover?" I asked, cracking an eye open to look at him. though I didn't show it, he was really starting to scare me. "What are you talking about? What happens in the sixth grade?"

He quickly turned towards us, fear swimming in his eyes. "Let me walk you guys home. please? Just home from the station? Promise me."

To make him calm down, we promised. But I secretly crossed my fingers. Just in case he got any stranger.

"Is this like a superstation or something?" Percy asked, once he thought I'd fallen asleep.

No answer.

"Grover—that snipping of the yarn. Does that mean somebody is going to die?"

Chills ran down my spine as Grover said nothing.

* * *

**There's the second chapter. Man that took a long time to write. It's hard to concentrate with the TV on. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed.**


	3. Chapter 3

GROVER UNEXPECTEDLY LOSES HIS PANTS

"Come on now," Cammie said, sternly, poking my arm. "He was totally freaking out. Spazing, really. We had to escape before he took our heads like some kind of psycho."

I sighed. "He's not some kind of cirial killer, Cam. This is Grover we're talking about."

Confession: we ditched Grover. As soon as we got to the bus terminal, I grabbed Cam and ran for the hills. He kept muttering something about how "They always die in 6th grade. Why 6th grade?" Never the less, he had to go take a bathroom break, and I had to get out of there.

Cammie shrugged. "Maybe I am watching to much _Criminal Minds_, but you have to admit, that's scary behavior. Especially for Grover."

I nodded in agreement. But that didn't make me feel any better about leaving him. I could tell Cam felt bad about leaving him, but she would never show it. She had some strange idea that if people saw she had a heart, they'd use it to hurt her somehow. I could always see right through it though. She could never keep anything from me.

Cammie was grabbing money from her suitcase while I waved down a taxi. When one came up, I took the luggage to the back, grabbed Cams hand and jumped in, pulling her in after me as fast as possible.

"East one-hundred-and-fourth and first," I told the driver.

* * *

A word about my mother, before you meet her.

Her name is Sally Jackson and she's the best person in the world, which just proves my theory that the best people have the rottenest luck. Her own parents died in a plane crash when she was five, and she was raised by an uncle who didn't care much about her. She wanted to be a novelist, so she spent high school working to save enough money for a collage with a good creative-writing program. Then her uncle got cancer, and she had to quit school her senior year to take care of him. after he died, she was left with no money, no family, and no diploma.

The olnly good break she ever got was meeting my dad.

I don't have any memories of him, just this sort of warm glow, maybe the barest trace of his smile. My mom doesn't like to talk about him because it makes her sad. She had no pictures.

See, they weren't married. She told me he was rich and important, and their relationship was secret. Then one day, he set sail across the Atlantic on some important journey, and he never came back.

Lost at sea, my mom told us. Not dead. Lost at sea.

_"Did he turn into a fish?" _I remember Cammie asking once when we were little._ "Is he like Arial? A Mermaid?"_

Mom smiled._ "Sort of," _she said.

She worked odd jobs, took night classes to get her high school diploma, and raised us on her own. She never complained or got mad. Not even once. But I knew we weren't easy for her.

Finally, she married Gave Ugliano, who was nice the first thirty seconds we knew him, then showed his true colors as a world-class jerk. When I was young, I nicknamed him Smelly Gabe. I'm sorry, but it's the truth. They guy reeked like moldy garlic pizza wrapped in gym shorts.

Between the three of us, we made mom's life pretty hard. the way Smelly Gave treated her, the way he and Cammie and me got along… well, when we came home is a good example.

* * *

Walking into the apartment, I prayed mom was home. but instead, smelly Gabe was playing poker with his buddies. The TV blared ESPN, and chips and beer cans littered the floor.

Gabe took one look at us, and said, "_You two _are home?"

"Hi to you too," Cam muttered.

"Don't you give me attitude!" he yelled at her. "My house, that means you give me respect!"

Cam gave him a disbelieving look.

"Where's mom," I asked, trying to stop a fight from erupting.

"Working," he said, dropping the subject. "Got any cash?"

Gabe had put on some weight. He looked like a tuskless walrus in thrift-store clothing. Something you'd see out of a Disney movie. He had about three hairs on his head, all combed over his bald scalp, as if that made him handsome or something.

He managed the Electronics Mega-Mart in Queens, but he stayed home most of the time. I don't know why he hadn't been fired long before. He just kept on collecting paychecks and pounds of fat, spending the money on cigars that made me nauseous, and on beer, or course. Always beer. Whenever I was home, he expected ether me or Cammie to provide his gambling funds. He called that "Our _special _secret". Code for, if either of us told mom, we'd be in some boiling hot water.

"No cash," I said. "Sorry."

He raised a greasy eyebrow.

Gabe could sniff out money like a bloodhound, which was surprising, since his own smell should've cover up everything else.

"You took a taxi from the bus station," he said. "Probably paid with a twenty. Got six, seven bucks in change. Somebody expects to live under this roof, he ought to carry his own weight. Am I right, Eddie?"

Cammie lurched forward, about to tell him off, but I held her back. I loved my sister, don't get me wrong, but she didn't know where to stop.

Eddie gave us a sympathetic look. "Come on, Gabe. They just got here. Leave them alone."

"Am I _right_," he asked again. Eddie scowled into his bowl of pretzels. The other two guys passed gas in harmony.

"Fine," I snapped. "Here, take it." I shoved the change onto the table. "Hope you lose."

As Cammie passed by the table, she stole four fives and a ten out of Gabe's winnings pile, only me and Eddie saw. As she passed Eddie, she handed him a five, smiling as she went by. It was a silent deal the two had. If Eddie would try and stand up to Gabe for us (successful or not) she'd slip him some cash.

"I wouldn't be so snooty!" Gabe said, examining his cards. "Report cards came today."

I groaned. I followed Cammie to our room, slamming the door behind me. Our apartment only had two rooms. Mom and Gabe shared a room, and then me and Cam shared the other. it wasn't really our room. It was Gabe's _study _when we weren't there. The only thing he studied was old car magazines. But he just loved to make our room smelly for when we came back.

By the time I got into our room, Cammie was already taking down all of Gabe's stuff, and putting up her Buffy the Vampire Slayer and James Bond movie posters up. "It smells _terrible _in here," she muttered. I took out an air freshener. She smiled at me. "Thinking ahead I see."

I shrugged. "Saw it at that gas station by the bus terminal. Thought it might be useful. I've got five more."

She laughed. "Here, help me hang this one." I held up the poster while she got some more tape to stick it to the wall.

"I still don't get your James Bond obsession," I admitted.

"He's _amazing!_" she yelled. "Coolest guy ever."

"He isn't real," I said, rolling my eyes. "He's just a movie character."

"Yeah, well I'm going to be like him one day."

"A fictional character hanging on peoples' walls?" I asked, smiling.

"No. A spy. One day, I'm going to be a spy."

I laughed. "Good luck with that. Hey, can I be your side kick?"

"That's superheroes, stupid," she said, rolling her eyes. "But sure. Why not?"

"Cool! I call the laser gun!"

"Spies have cooler gadgets then laser guns."

I inhaled contently, but instantly regretted it. "We might want to hang up all those fresheners. It smells rank in here."

"That's what I told you! It's almost as bad as those Mrs. Dodds nightmare's I've been having."

We were both silent for a moment. She didn't say it—she didn't have too—but I could tell that she had the same feeling as I did. Something was out there, looking for us. Something wanted us. Maybe Grover's panic wasn't to far off set. Maybe we really _were _in danger.

"Now who's this Mrs. Dodds of yours?" a voice asked from the doorway.

"Mom!" we yelled, hoping down from Cammie's bed, running to our mother. Our fears melted away. Mom can make anyone feel good just by walking into the room. Her eyes sparkled and changed color in the light. Her smile is as warm as a quilt. She's got a few gray streaks mixed in with her long brown hair, but I never think of her as old. When she looks at me, it's like she's seeing all the good things, none of the bad. I've never heard her raise her voice or say an unkind word to anyone, not even me, Cam or Gabe.

"Oh," mom groaned, hugging us. "My babies. You've grown since Chrisman you two!"

Her red-white-and-blue Sweet on America uniform smelled like the best things in the world: chocolate, licorice, and all the other stuff she sold at the candy shop in Grand Central. She'd brought us a huge bag of "free samples," the way she always did when we came home.

"Blue M&M's?" Cammie asked, excitedly.

Mom laughed. "Of course. Only for you sweetie."

We sat together on the edge of the bed. While I attacked the blueberry sour strings, she ran her hand through my hair, and rubbed Cammie's back, demanding to know everything. Cammie did most of the talking. She stayed away from the "expelled" topic, though. Mom didn't care. She just wanted to know if we were alright.

"You're smothering us, mom. Give us some space," I said, but we all knew it was a lie. I loved it. I loved how our mom cared for us. I was the luckiest kid in the world to have a mom like her.

"Hey, Sally," Gabe yelled from the other room. "—how about some bean dip, huh?"

I ground my teeth together.

My mom is the nicest lady in the world. She should've been married to a millionaire, not some low life like Gabe.

For her sake, I tried to sound upbeat about my last days at Yancy Academy. I told her I wasn't too down about the expulsion. I'd lasted almost the whole year this time. I'd make new friends. I'd make Cammie _make _new friends. I'd done pretty well in Latin. The fights hadn't been as bad as the headmaster made it seem. I put such a great spin on the year, I almost convinced myself. I started choking up, thinking about Grover and Mr. Brunner. Even Nancy Bobofit suddenly didn't seem so bad.

Okay, maybe not the last part.

It'd been an okay time, honestly. Up until the museum…

"What?" mom asked us, looking at us both. "Did something scare you?"

I felt bad lying. I wanted to tell her about Mrs. Dodds and the three old ladies with the yarn, and Grover's strange behavior, but I thought it would sound stupid, and instead of a new boarding school, I'd be a home for mental patients next.

She pursed her lips. She knew I was holding back, but she didn't push me. Instead she looked to Cam.

"Cammie, honey," she said, kindly. "What's happened?"

Cammie smiled brightly. "Nothing. You shouldn't worry too much mom, you have too much on your plate to be worrying about us all the time." She was such a good liar, not even mom could tell when she was pulling something over her.

Mom smiled, seemingly forgetting it for a while. "I have a surprise for you guys," she said. "We're going to the beach."

My eyes widened. "Montauk?" I asked.

"Three night—same cabin."

"When!" Cammie squealed in delight.

Mom smiled. "As soon as I get changed."

Yelling in joy, Cammie fell back onto the bed, flopping around like a fish.

I couldn't believe it. We haven't been to Montauk the last two summers, because Gave said there wasn't enough money.

Gabe appeared in the doorway, and growled, "Bean dip, Sally? Didn't you hear me?"

I wanted to punch him, to tell him this wasn't the olden times where a wife wasn't the same thing as a slave, but I met my mom's eyes and I understood she was offering me a deal: be nice to Gabe for a little while. Just until she was ready to leave for Montauk. Then we could get out of here.

"I was on my way, honey," she told Gabe. "Cammie's going to help me. we were just talking about the trip."

Gabe's eyes got small. "The trip? You mean you were serious about that?"

"I knew it," I muttered. "He won't let us go."

"Of course he will," mom said evenly, and I could see where Cammie got her hot headedness. "Your step-father is just worried about money. That's all. besides," She added, "Gabriel won't have to settle for bean dip for the whole weekend. Guacamole. Sour cream. The works."

Gabe softened a bit. "So this money for your trip… it comes out of your clothes budget, right?"

"Yes, honey," she said in a sickly sweet voice.

"And you won't take my car anywhere but there and back."

"We'll be very careful."

Gabe scratched his double chin. "Maybe if you hurry with that seven-layer dip… and maybe if that kids apologize for interrupting my poker game."

Maybe if I kick you in your soft spot, I thought, and make you sing soprano for a week.

But mom's eyes warred me not to make him mad. Why did she put up with this guy? I wanted to scream. Why did she care what he thought?

I looked to Cam, and nodded. I didn't want to apologize (the guy didn't deserve it) but if I had to pick, it'd be the trip.

"I'm sorry," I muttered.

"Yeah, we're really sorry we interrupted your incredibly important poker game," Cammie said with clenching teeth. "Please go back to it right now."

His eyes narrowed in on her, and for a second I thought she blew it, but one glare on her part, and he decided it was better to except and ignore the sarcasm than to put up with an angry Cammie for the rest of eternity.

"Yeah, whatever," he decided.

He went back to his game.

"Thank you, you two," mom said. "Once we get to Montauk, we'll talk more about… whatever you guys didn't want to talk about before."

For a moment, I thought I saw anxiety in her eyes—the same fear I'd seen in Grover during the bus ride—as if my mom too felt an odd chill in the air.

But then her smile returned, and I figured I must have been mistaken. She ruffled my hair, and told Cam to come help her make the dip.

* * *

An hour later we were ready to leave.

Cammie was screaming in joy on the top of her lungs. "AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRREBA!" she yelled, laughing. "We're going to the bbbbbbbbbbbbbbb-each, we're going to the bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb-each! We're gunna go swimming, and we gunna eat junk, and we gunna be awake till the sun come up!" she sung.

I laughed at her. "Calm down," I said.

"No! I haven't been to the beach in forever! And if I want to scream, and yell I will."

Gabe took a break from his poker game long enough to watch mom load the bags into the car. He kept griping and groaning about losing her cooking—and more important, his '78 Camaro—for the whole weekend.

"Not a scratch on this car, you two dumb wits, got it?" he warned as we loaded the last of the bags. "Not. One. _Little. _Scratch."

Like I'd be the one driving. I was twelve. But that didn't matter to Gabe. If a bird so much as pooped on the hood, he'd find a way to blame us. He probably thought we delinquents were going to steel it and take it for a nice little joy ride.

Watching him lumber back toward the apartment building, I saw Cammie to the hand gesture Grover taught her on the bus, a sort of warding-off-evil thing, a clawed hand over the heart, then a shoving movement toward Gabe. The screen door slammed shut so hard I whacked him in the butt and sent him flying up the staircase as if he'd l been shot from a cannon. Maybe it was just the wind, or some freak accident with the hinges, but Cammie didn't really seem to think so. "It works," she muttered. "I'm going to rule the world with this thing."

I got in the Camaro and told mom to step on it.

* * *

Our rental cabin was on the south shore, way out at the tip of Long Island. It was a little pastel box with faded curtains, half sunken into the dunes. There was always sand in the sheets and spiders in the cabinets and most of the time the sea was too cold to go swimming in.

I loved the place.

It was the coolest place ever, no joke. We'd been going there since we were babies, and mom even longer. She never said it, but I knew the beach was special to her. it's where she met our dad after all.

As we got closer to Montauk, she seemed to grow younger, years of worry and work disappearing from her face. Her eyes turned the color of the sea. I sighed, contently, happy to see mom so content.

We got there at sunset, opened all the cabins windows, and went through our usual cleaning routine. We walked on the beach, fed blue corn chips to the seagulls, and munched on blue jelly beans, and blue saltwater taffy, and all the other free samples mom had brought from work.

"If we eat much more of this blue stuff," mom said, "we might just turn blue ourselves."

"Blue, huh," me and Cam said together. "Sounds _awesome_," I said, smiling at mom.

I guess I should explain the blue food.

See, Gabe had once told mom there was no suck thing. They had this fight, which seemed like a really small thing at the time. But ever since, mom whent out of her way to eat blue. She baked blue birthday cakes. She mixed blueberry smoothies. She bought blue-corn tortilla chips and brought home blue candy from the shop. This—along with keeping her maiden name, Jackson, rather than calling herself Mrs. Ugliano—was proof that she wasn't totally suckered by Gabe. She did have a rebellious streak, like me and Cam.

When it got dark, we made a fire. We roasted hot dogs and marshmallows. Mom told stories about when she was a kid, back before her parents died in the plane crash. She told us about the books she wanted to write someday when she had enough money to quit the candy shop.

I cleared my throat. "Hey mom," I said, my voice kind of shaky. "What was dad like?"

Mom's eyes went all misty. I figured she would tell me the same things she always did, but I never got tired of hearing them.

"He was kind, Percy," she said. "Tall, handsome, and powerful. But gentle, too. You two have his black hair, you know, and his green eyes."

Mom fished out a blue jelly bean from the bag. "I wish he could see you right now. He'd be so proud."

"How!" Cammie exclaimed. "We're juvenile delinquents! We make mistakes, we can't read, we're hyperactive, get a D+ average, and have been to six different schools! We're mess up!"

I lowered my head, thinking the same thing.

"That's not true!" mom said. "That's so not true. You're wonderful kids, the best in the world. Yes, you make mistakes, but everyone does. And you try, that's all that matters."

We were all silent for a moment. "How old were we?" I asked. "I mean… when he left?"

She watched the flames. "We was only with me for one summer, Percy. Right here at this beach. This cabin."

"But… he knew us as babies."

"No, honey. He knew I was expecting a baby"—she smiled—"it ended up being two, but he never saw you guys. He had to leave before you were born."

No, I thought. I _did _know him. I had to of known him for a _little while._ I remembered him. Parts of him, really. A warm glow. A smile. I had assumed he knew me as a baby. Mom had never said it outright, but sill, I'd felt it must be true. Now, to be told that he'd never even seen me…

Rage took over me. I was angry. Not at mom. But at my father. Maybe it was stupid, but I hated him for going on that ocean voyage, for not having the guts to marry my mom, the most wonderful person he would ever get. He'd left us, and now we were stuck with Smelly Gabe.

"Are you going to send us away again?" Cammie asked her. She saw my anger, and hoped to avoid a sour conversation. "To another boarding school?"

Mom pulled a marshmallow from the fire.

"I don't know, honey." Her voice was heavy. "I think… I think we'll have to do something."

"Because you don't want us around?" I said, and regretted it the moment the words were out. I was angry at dad, and taking it out on her.

Mom's eyes welled with tears. She took my hand, squeezed it tight. "Oh, Percy, no. I—I _have _to, honey. For your own good. I have to send you away. Please understand?'

Her words reminded me of what Mr. Brunner had said—that it was best for me to leave Yancy.

"Because we're not normal," I said.

"Your say that as if it's a bad thing, Percy. But you don't realize how important you are. I thought Yancy Academy would be far enough away. I thought you'd finally be safe."

"Safe from _what _exactly," Cammie said.

She met my eyes, and a flood of memories came back to me—all the weird, scary things that had ever happened to me, some of the scary things that had ever happened to us, some of which I'd tried to forget.

During third grade, a man in a black trench coat had stalked Cammie on the playground. I was inside, doing something for one of the teachers after getting in trouble, and when I came out, I saw this man following my sister around. I ran to the teachers to tell them, and when they threatened the call the police, he went away growling, but no one believe me when I told them that under his broad-brimmed hat, the man only had one eye, right in the middle of his head.

Before that—a really early memory. I was in preschool, and a teacher accidentally put me down for a nap in a cot that a snake had slithered into. My mom screamed when she came to pick us up and found me playing with a limp, scaly rope I'd somehow managed to strangle to death with my meaty toddler hands.

In every single school, something creepy had happened, something unsafe, and we were forced to move.

I knew I should tell mom about the old ladies at the fruit stand, and Mrs. Dodds at the art museum, about the weird hallucination that had sliced my math teacher into dust with a sword. But I couldn't make myself tell her. I had a strange feeling the news would end our trip to Montauk, and I didn't want that. It was our first real break in _forever!_ I didn't want to ruin that for any of us.

"I've tried to keep you as close to me as I could," mom said. "they told me that was a mistake. But there's only one other option, guys—the place your father wanted to send you. And I just… I couldn't stand the thought of never seeing my two little babies ever again."

"Our dad wanted us to go to a special school?" Cammie asked incredulously.

"Not a school," she said softly. "A summer camp."

My head was spinning. Why would my dad—who hadn't even stayed around long enough to see me or my sister born—talk to my mom about a summer camp? And if it was so important, why hadn't she ever mentioned it before?

"No," mom muttered. "No I can't. I _won't._ I won't lose you two. You are my _life_. I would never say goodbye to you guys for good."

"For good?" I said. "But it's a summer camp. What's so bad about that?"

She turned toward the fire, and I knew from her expression that if I asked her any more questions she would start to cry.

* * *

That night I had a vivid dream.

It was storming on the beach, and two beautiful animals, a white horse and a golden eagle swooped down and slashed the horse's muzzle with its huge talons. I stood far away, on the other side of the beach, from a mildly safe distance, but it was like I could see up close. In the distance, on top of a pile of rocks I always saw when walking on the beach, stood Cam. She looked confusingly at the fight, like she didn't understand it. Her eyes met with mine, and she looked surprised, as if she wasn't expecting to see me in my _own dream_.

The animals started fighting harder.

I ran towards them, knowing I had to stop them from killing each other. Cammie jumped down from the rocks, and over to me, screaming at me to stop. Not to get into the line of fire. But it didn't really matter. I was running in slow motion. I knew it'd be to late by the time I got to them. One would be dead.

The eagle dove down, its beak aimed at the horse's wide eyes, and I screamed, _no!_

Cammie hid her eyes, screaming.

I woke to Cammie's earsplitting bloody murder yells. "Cammie!" I hissed. "Cammie, what's wrong."

Cammie sat up, crying. I sat next to her, rubbing her back. Outside it was really storming. The kind of storm that cracks trees and blows down houses. There was no horse or eagle on the beach, just lightning making false daylight, and twenty-foot waves pounding the dunes like artillery. I knew it wasn't the storm that was scaring her. Somehow, I don't know how—twin telepathy maybe?—but I knew she had the same dream as me.

"It was only a dream," I said.

"He died," she cried. "The eagle killed him! He killed dad!"

I looked at her strangely. "Dad?"

With the next thunderclap, mom woke. She sat up, eyes wide, and said, "Hurricane."

I knew that was crazy. Long Island never sees hurricanes this early in the summer. But the ocean seemed to say otherwise. The wind roared, the distant angry bellow made my stomach drop and my hair stand up on end.

Then a much closer noise, like mallets in the sand. A desperate voice—someone yelling, pounding on our cabin door.

Mom sprung out of bed in her nightgown, and threw open the lock.

Grover stood framed in the doorway against a backdrop of pouring rain. But he wasn't… he wasn't exactly Grover.

"Searching all night," he gasped. "What were you thinking?"

Mom looked at us in terror—not scared of Grover, but of why he'd come.

"Maybe because you were totally freaking out?" I guessed, speaking up for Cammie who was still too busy bawling.

"Percy," she said, shouting to be heard over the rain. "What happened at school? what didn't you tell me?"

I froze, looking at Grover. I couldn't understand what I was seeing.

"_O Zeu kai alloi theoi_!" he yelled. "It's right behind me! Didn't you _tell _her?"

I was too shocked to register that he'd just cursed in Ancient Greek, and I'd understood him perfectly. I was too shocked to wonder how Grover had gotten here by himself in the middle of the night. Because Grover didn't have his pants on—and where his legs should be… where his legs should be…

Mom noticed Cammie crying, and ran over to her. "Honey, what is it? What's wrong?" Cammie just shook her head, wailing. Mom looked at me. "_Percy_. Tell me _now!"_

I stammer something about the old ladies at the fruit stand, and Mrs. Dodds, and my mom started at me, her face deathly pail as she rubbed Cammie's back.

She grabbed her purse, tossed me two rain jackets, and said, "Get to the car. All of you. Go!"

I pulled on my rain jacket, and fit one onto Cammie, and pulled her up, making a run for the Camaro. Grover did too, but he wasn't exactly running. He was more like… trotting really. Suddenly his story about a muscular disorder in his legs made sense to me. I understood how he could run faster and limp when he walked.

Because where his feet should be, there were no feet.

Just a pair of cloven hooves.

* * *

**WHOA! that was fun! i just love Percy jackson, anyone else? **


	4. Chapter 4

**Just so you all know, I did _NOT _get the idea for this story from Kimby Rulez stories. After hearing that I had a very similar plot to theirs, I went on their profile and found I did indeed have the same idea, and I'm putting this on the record that I _didn't _take the idea from their story. It just came to me one day, and I thought of making it a story. This is just a fair warning to anyone who might send me flames for this. Thank you CrazierThanYourMind for the warning. I'm very grateful.**

* * *

MY MOTHER TEACHES ME BULLFIGHTING

I may have been in hysterics, but I could tell my mom was driving like the devil himself was on our heels. There was an angry bellow behind us, and it drove her faster. That dream had been so real. It was as though it was really happening. It struck unknown fear into my heart. I don't know how I knew, but the horse was my father. No doubt about it. I suddenly didn't believe he was lost at sea.

Lightning pulsed like a rapidly beating heart, illuminating the car, and I looked to Grover every time it did. _I've gone insane,_ I decided. That or he was wearing a pair of shag-carpet pants. But the smell in the car was of barnyard animals from the petting zoos mom used to take us too. _Wet _barnyard animals.

"So… you know our mom?" Percy asked.

Grover looked at us in the rearview mirror. He then looked farther out as though he was watching for something to follow us. "No. Not exactly," he said. "I mean, we've never met in person. But she knew I was watching you guys."

"Why?" I asked, suddenly able to breathe properly. "Why watch us. Aren't we well enough watched at a delinquent center not to need a full time babysitter?"

"Not a babysitter," mom said, biting her lip. "Just to keep tabs on you."

"Why? Why would our best friend—a guy who is half _donkey _from the waist down—"

He let out a sharp-throaty "_Blaa-ha-ha_!"

I'd heard him make that sound before, but I'd always assumed it was a nervous laugh. Now I realized it was more of an irritated bleat.

"Goat!" he cried.

"What?"

"I'm a _goat _from the waist down! not a _donkey!_"

"But—" Percy started.

"_Blaa-ha-ha_! There are satyrs who would trample you underhoof for such an insult!"

"NO!" I groaned loud. "Don't say that! I don't want to hear _anything _about Greek mythology, or whatever! That's all myth and this is reality!"

"Were those old ladies at the fruit stand a _myth_? How about Mrs. Dodds, huh?"

"So you _admit _there was a Mrs. Dodds!" Percy glared.

"Of course."

"Oh, _now _he's honest," I grumble, keeping my eyes shut tight.

"Then why—" Percy started.

"The less you knew, the fewer monsters you'd attract," Grover said, like that should be perfectly obvious. "We put Mist over the humans' eyes. We hoped you'd think the Kindly One was a hallucination. But it was no good. You two started to realize who you are."

"Ice cream, lollypops, and blue cookies," I repeated under my breath like a mantra, trying to block him out of my mind.

"What are you doing?" Percy asked me.

"I have a theory about all of this," I said. "It's a dream. A really bad dream. And to prove it, I'm going to summon some of my favorite things."

"Look," Grover said. "This isn't a dream Cammie. It is real."

"No," I pointed at him. "It's not. And as soon as I have my ice cream, I'll show you."

I jumped as the bellowing rose up again from behind us. Whatever the thing was, it was still on our tail. And it was close.

"I'm sorry, kids," mom said. "There's too much to explain and not enough time. We have to make sure you guys get to safety."

"Who's after us mom?" Percy asked. "Who's after us, and what do they want?"

"Oh, nobody much," Grover said, obviously still miffed about the donkey comment. "Just the Lord of the Dead and a few of his blood-thirstiest minions."

"Grover!" mom snapped.

"What did he just say!?" I yelped.

"There's no time."

"We're in a car, on our way to who knows where, wasting time yelling profanities at each other. We have quite enough time, I believe," I said. "_Please, _mom."

"We're almost there, Sweetie. I'm sorry."

I closed my eyes. I could never dream up something this weird.

Mom made a hard left, throwing me into the window, and Percy on to me. The road became narrower, and narrower by the second. We passed by darkened farmhouses, and wooded hills and PICK YOUR OWN STRAWBERRIES signs on white picket fences.

"Where are we going!" me and Percy yelled together.

"The summer camp I told you about." Mom's voice was tight. Her hands shook on the stirring wheel. "The place your father wanted to send you."

"But you just said last night you didn't want to take us there," Percy said.

"You're in _danger, Percy! _Both of you are!" Mom took a deep breath. "Please believe me, I don't want you two to go anywhere, but I can't let anything happen to you."

"Because old ladies cut yarn? Lots of people do. I hear it's a common practice among grandmothers," I said.

"Those weren't old ladies," Grover said. "Those were the fates."

"The Fates?" Percy asked.

"You know, the three old ladies in Hercules that snipped the yarn," I reminded him. "Killed Meg, and then Hercules had to go into the underworld and get her soul back."

"Oh yeah," he smiled. "I like that movie."

"First off, that's just a movie," Grover scoffed. "There's no real facts in it. Look, the Fates popped up in front of you. Do you know what that means?"

"That they knit big socks, and sell yummy looking fruit?" I guessed.

"NO! They only show up when you're… someone's about to die."

"Wait, you just said 'you'!" Percy panicked.

"No I didn't. I said 'someone'."

"You meant 'you'. As in one of _us_."

"I meant _you, _like someone. No you, _you._"

"Boys!" mom yelled.

She pulled the wheel hard to the right, and I got a glimpse of what we swerved to avoid. It was a tall, and dark figure, now behind us.

"What was that?!"

"We're almost there. Just another mile," mom said, ignoring me, determination written on her face. "Get ready to get out and run."

I didn't know why this summer camp was so important, and I didn't know how it'd keep me safe from who knows what. But mom knew what she was doing. I could tell that much from the way her eyes stayed steadily forward, and she held the wheel like it might run away at any second. It was much like the look Percy would get when he was studying really hard. This was serious chizz, and there was no time for delay.

Outside it was raining, and dark. I leaned forward, Percy right behind me. It felt like I had jumped right into a James Bond movie, into a stormy night about to learn of my newest mission to some exotic land in some other country, far from my own. It'd be exiting—dangerous for sure. I'd have another identity, go to fancy parties and wear gowns that appeared out of nowhere and into my suitcases as if by magic. I'd make enemies, possibly fall in love, and jump off a train. At least once. Possibly twice. It wasn't any James Bond movie, but it calmed me down.

I didn't want think about Mrs. Dodds and the moment when she changed into some big hideous monster, or when Mr. Brunner threw me and Percy those pens. But of course I did. Mrs. Dodds really wasn't human, was she? Percy really did destroy her with his magical pen, and those old ladies really were knitting socks of death.

We were supposed to be dead. Long gone. On our way up to Heaven (the underworld actually, if this really wasn't a dream).

So I guess I wasn't too surprised by the blinding flash, and jaw-rattling _boom!,_ as our car exploded.

I was weightless. I remember that. Mom screamed. Percy grabbed for my hand, pulling me close.

I peeled my forehead away from the back of the seat, groaning. "Ow," I hissed. "What happened?"

"Are you guys okay?!" mom asked.

"We're fine. Grover?"

We weren't dead, so that was a plus. The car didn't actually explode. We'd swerved into a ditch. Rain poured in through the roof, that had cracked like an eggshell.

Lighting. Nice. We'd been hit by lightning. Thank you mother nature, and your little gifts!

"Grover," I asked again. "Grover you okay?"

He was slumped over, blood trickling from the side of his mouth. It looked like he was dying. _No! even if you are half barnyard animal, you're my best friend! You're the only real friend next to Percy that I ever had! You can't die!_

Then he groaned. "Food," and I knew there was hope.

"Kids," mom said. "We have to…" her voice faltered.

I looked back.

"What the bleeper is that," I muttered.

Now this next part might be a tad bit… confusing. I'm telling you, _I _didn't make this up. I don't have that much imagination to think up something like this.

As lightning lit the area, what I could see through the mud-spattered rear windshield, was a figure lumbering toward us on the shoulder of the road. The sight of it made my skin crawl, and mind freeze. It was a dark silhouette of a huge guy, like a football player. He seemed to be holding a blanket over his head. His top half was bulky and fuzzy. His upraised hands made it look like he had horns.

Swallowing hard, I asked, "What is—"

"Percy, get your sister out of the car," mom said, dead serious. "Get out, _now._"

Finally, we seemed to understand this was no game, no trick, and I quickly unbuckled myself as Percy and mom threw their weight onto the car doors. They were stuck, jammed by the mud. I looked up at the hole in the roof, and any thoughts of that being an escape route was cut short as the edges sizzled and smoked.

"The passenger door! Go out the passenger's side!" mom told us. "Get out and run. Do you see that big tree?"

"What?"

Another flash of lightning, and though the smoking hole in the roof I saw the tree she meant: a huge, White House Christmas tree-sized pine at the crest of the nearest hill.

"That's the property line," mom said. "Get over that hill and you'll see a big farmhouse down in the valley. Run and don't look back. Yell for help. Don't stop until you reach the door."

"You're coming too," I said sternly.

"Cammie…" Her eyes were filled with sorrow, as though she thought she wasn't going to ever see us again.

"NO!" I shouted. "You're coming too! You're going to help us get Grover out, and you're coming with us!"

She knew there was no way I was leaving without her. If she wanted me to get to safety, she'd be coming too.

Grover moaned. "Food."

The man with the blanket on his head kept coming toward us, making his grunting, snorting noises. As he got closer, I realized he _couldn't _be holding a blanket over his head, because his hands—huge meaty hands—where swinging at his sides. There was no blanket. Meaning the bulky, fuzzy mass that was too big to be his head… was his head. And the points that looked like horns…

"He doesn't want us," mom said. "He wants you two. Besides, I can't cross the property line."

"But…"

I got mad. At mom, at Grover, at the big meaty fuzz-ball with horns that was limbering toward us slowly and deliberately like, like a bull.

I pulled my seatbelt across my lap, crossing my arms over my chest like a child.

"Cammie, what are you doing?" Percy asked me.

"I'm staying with mom," I replied.

"Stop, Cammie," mom said. "You have to get out. I'll be fine. Now get out."

"You first."

She threw her hands up in the air, like I was being ridiculous. Maybe I was, but so was she.

"She's right mom," Percy said. "We go together or not at all."

She looked at us, and for a moment I think I saw pride in her eyes. Pride and love.

"Get Grover," she said, unbuckling.

I quickly scrambled out after Percy, and he helped me stand up. We pulled Grover out, and draped his arms across our shoulders.

I got my first clear look of the guy then. He was seven feet tall, easy, his arms and legs like something from the cover of _Muscle Man _magazine—bulging biceps and triceps and a bunch of other 'ceps, all stuffed like baseballs under vein-webbed skin. He wore no clothes expect underwear—bright, white fruit of the Looms tighty-whiteys to be exact—which would've looked funny, except that the top half of his body was so scary. Coarse brown hair started at about the belly button and got thicker as it reached his shoulders.

His neck was a mass of muscle and fur leading up to his enormous head, which had a snout as long as my arm, snotty nostrils with a gleaming brass ring, cruel black eyes, and horns—enormous black-and-white horns with points you just couldn't get from an electric sharpener.

"No. way." I muttered. "This just isn't happening."

I don't know when he was scarier. When I didn't know what he was, or when I _did._ Suddenly I was back in Mr. Brunner's class, watching as he wrote up on the board, talking about this terrible monster he seemed afraid to say the name of, even though he wasn't real. Or I didn't think he was real.

"That's—"

"Pasiphae's son," mom said. "I wish I'd known how badly they wanted you guys dead."

Percy said, "But mom, that's the Min—"

"Don't say his name," she warned, as though scolding a child who said a bad word. "Names have power."

The pine tree was still way too far—a hundred yards uphill at least.

I looked behind me.

The bull-man hunched over our car, looking in the windows—not really looking actually, more like sniffing. Why, I didn't know, seeing how we were fifty feet away.

"Food?" Grover moaned.

"Quiet," I told him. "Mom, what's he doing? Doesn't he see us?"

"His sight and hearing are terrible," she said. "He goes by smell. But he'll figure out where we are soon enough."

I swallowed hard, hoping that soon wasn't _too _soon.

"Percy, I want you to promise me something," mom said. "You take care of you sister, you understand. Whatever happens, no matter what, you watch out for her, take care of her."

"I will mom," he nodded. "I promise."

"You'll be fine, mom," I said.

She smiled at me, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

The bull bellowed in rage. He picked up Gabe's Camaro by the torn roof, the chassis creaking and groaning. He raised the car over his head and threw it down the road. It slammed into the wet asphalt and skidded in a shower of sparks for about half a mile before coming to a stop. The gas tank exploded.

"Hey, Cam,' Percy said. "Didn't Gabe say, 'not a scratch'?"

Although we were in a life or death situation, I found that funny. "Well, there's really no _scratches _left to be seen."

"Now listen to me, guys," mom said. "When he sees us, he'll charge. Wait till the last possible moment, then jump sideways, out of the way. He can't change directions very well once he's charging. Do you understand?"

"Cristal clear mom. Just one question. How do you know all this stuff. We didn't even learn it in Latin class."

"I've been worried about an attack for a while now. I should have expected this. I was selfish, keeping you near me."

"Keeping me near you? But—"

The ground vibrated, and the bull-man started up the hill.

He had smelt us.

The tree was only a few yard away, but the hill got slicker, and Grover seemed to be getting heavier.

Mom must have been exhausted, but took Grover from us anyway. "He won't come for us. I'll get Grover across the line, but you guys need to stay away from him. Remember what I said! Separate!"

Splitting us seemed bad at first glance. When people split up in horror movies, they ended up dead, but this wasn't a movie, and I wasn't like those dumb dizzy blonds in those movies. Right now, splitting up was our only option.

Me and Percy stopped, waiting for the beast to get closer. Soon he was barreling down on us. His eyes glowed with hate, and I could smell him from where I stood. He had a rank smell of rotting meat.

"You go left, I go right?" I suggested.

Percy nodded. "Sounds like a plan, Sis."

"Then we run for the property line?"

"Good idea."

As he got closer, bolting sounded like a great idea. But I'd never make it over the property line in time, and I couldn't leave Percy. I grabbed for Percy's hand, giving it a tight squeeze before letting it go. "Here goes nothing."

Holding my ground, I waited for the last moment, and jumped to the side.

It felt like a freight train had just passed me by. I looked to Percy. He was fine. The bull-man bellowed in frustration, then turned. But not toward me. Not toward Percy ether. But toward mom, who was setting Grover down on the grass by the property line.

We ran to the crest of the hill. Down there other side I could see a valley, just as my mother had said, and the lights of a farmhouse glowing yellow through the rain a half a mile away. We'd never make it.

The bull-man grunted, pawing the ground. He kept eyeing mom, who slowly backed away from Grover, and to the road, leading the monster away from us.

"Run!" she yelled. "I can't go any farther. Run!"

But I just stood there, frozen with fear and the overall fear of disaster, as the monster charged her. She tried to sidestep, as she'd taught us, but the bull had learned his lesson. His hand shot out and grabbed her by the neck as she tried to get away. He lifted her as she struggled, kicking and pummeling the air.

"MOM!"

She caught my eyes, managing to choke out words that would stay with me forever: "Go! Don't make all my effort to protect you worth nothing!"

Then, with an angry roar, the monster closed his fist around my mother's neck, and she dissolved before my eyes, melting into light, a shimmering golden from as if she were a holographic projection. A blinding flash, and was was gone. Simply… _gone._

"No," I hissed.

Percy roared with anger. The bull-man bore down on Grover, who lay helpless in the grass. The monster hunched over, snuffling my best friend, as if he were about to lift Grover up and make him dissolve too.

He had taken my mother away, and now he thought he was going to get away with my best friend too?

I think not.

I took off my red rain jacket.

"Hey!" I screamed at him, waving my jacket, running to one side of the monster. "Hey you big sack of ground beef! Look over here!"

"Raaaarrrrr!" the monster turned toward me, shaking his meaty fists.

Percy stripped off his jacket too, making an even bigger mass of red fabric. "Come on you big lump of stink! Come and get us!"  
I had an idea—a stupid idea, but better then no idea at all. I put my back to the big pine tree and waved the rain soaked jacket in front of the bull-man, thinking I'd jump out of the way at the last moment. One look to Percy had told me he had the same idea.

But it didn't quite work out like that.

The bull-man charged too fast, his arms out to grab us whichever way we decided to dodge. Even if we split up again, one of us was going to get caught.

Time slowed down.

My legs tensed. I couldn't jump sideways. So I did the next most craziest thing ever. Percy dropped his jacket, and cupped his hands together, making a step latter, which I used as leverage to jump into the air. I flipped once, landing a kick right on top of the monster's head, and flipped again, landing on his back.

_How did I do that?_

I didn't have time to figure out how, because one millisecond later, we collided with the tree. The impact nearly sent me flying off him, but I held on strong.

He staggered around, trying to throw me off. I locked my arms around his horns, shoving my face into his furry neck, suddenly not so brave. Thunder and lightning was still going strong. My nostrils filled with the smell of rotten meat.

The monster shook himself around and bucked like a rodeo bull. He should just backed up into the tree and smashed me flat, but I was starting to realize that this thing only have one gear: forward.

Meanwhile, Grover started groaning in the grass. I wanted to yell at him to shut up, but the way I was getting tossed around, If I opened my mouth I'd bite my own tongue off.

"Food!" Grover moaned.

The bull-man wheeled toward him, pawed the ground again, and got read to charge. I held on tighter, not knowing what to do.

Percy threw himself at the bull-man's feet, wrapping his arms around his legs, tripping the monster. He was a lot braver then I was, that's for sure. We hit the ground with a thud, and I bounced back up, still holding his horns. The monster tensed, gave a surprised grunt, then—_snap_.

The bull-man screamed and flung me through the air. Screaming, I landed flack on my back in the grass. My head smacked against a rock. When I sat up, my vision was blurry, but I had one of his horns in my hands, a ragged bone weapon the size of a knife. Percy was quickly by my side, surveying the new object.

The monster charged.

Percy took the weapon from my hands, and as the monster barreled past, drove the broken horn straight into his side, right up under his furry rib cage.

The bull-man roared in agony. He flailed, clawing at his chest, then began to disintegrate—not like mom had, in a flash of golden light, but like crumbling sand, blown away in chunks by the wind, the same way Mrs. Dodds had burst apart.

He was gone. The rain had stopped, though the storm remained, only far away. I could smell the stench of livestock on myself, and my knees were shaking. My head felt like it was splitting open. I was weak and scared and trembling with grief. I'd just seen my mother vanish, and my friend almost become a monster's midnight snack. I wanted to lie down and cry. But Percy shook my shoulder, saying, "Come on, Cammie. We need to get Grover some help." I nodded, taking an arm, and staggering down the valley, toward the lights of the farmhouse. I was crying, calling for mom, but held on tight to my friend. I couldn't lose him too.

The last thing I remember was collapsing on the wooden porch, Percy's worried call, and a spinning ceiling fan circling above. I could see the stern faces of a familiar-looking bearded man and a pretty blond girl, with curly princess hair. They both looked down at me, and the girl said, "They're the ones. They must be."

"Silence, Annabeth," the man said. "They're still conscious. Help me bring them inside."


	5. Chapter 5

**Extremely exited for this chapter, no clue why. By the way, if you hadn't already realized, Cammie and Percy are really close. Like _really _close. Not gross romantic close, but brother sister twin close. If that bothers you, stop reading because there's going to be a lot of that.**

* * *

I PLAY PINOCHLE WITH A HORSE

Man, that was a weird dream. It was full of barnyard animals, and most of them wanted to kill me. The rest were moaning out "_FOOD!_"

I woke up several times; so many times I started dreaming about waking up. But I knew I was awake when what I heard and saw made no sense. I'm not the most imaginative person. I remember lying in a soft bed, being spoon-fed something that tasted like buttered popcorn, only it was pudding. The girl with curly blond hair hovered over me, smirking as she scraped drips off my chin with the spoon. Why that amuses her made no sense to me, but whatever.

When she saw my eyes open, she asked, "What will happen at the summer solstice?"

I managed to croak, "What?"

She looked around, as if afraid someone would over hear. "What's going on? What was stolen? We've only got a few weeks!"

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, "I don't…"

Somebody knocked on the door, and the girl quickly filled my mouth with pudding.

The next time I woke, the girl was gone.

A husky blond, surfer dude stood in the corner, watching me like a creeper. And what made it even creepier was the fact that he had eyes _everywhere. _Blue eyes, to be exact. At least a dozen. On his cheeks, his forehead, the backs of his hands. It was creepy.

Another time, I swear I heard Cammie.

"Tell me this isn't some kind of lame summer camp with boring camp fires and stupid games of soccer where there is no loser because everyone's a _winner._"

There was soft laughter. "No, no, when we play soccer, there's always a winner."

"It's not a camp for delinquents, right?"

"No."

"Mentally insane?"

"No."

"Would you really tell me if it was?"

"…No probably not."

"Yeah, I wouldn't ether. Think of all the psychos who'd freak out on ya if you did. If I was a psycho, I'd totally bite your finger off."

"Why my finger?"

"Because I most certainly can't bite your arm right off with my mouth now can I? Be realistic here."

I laughed a little at that.

"Percy! Percy, are you awake?"

"He should be up soon. He's been sleeping for forever."

"Come on bro, wake up. Quit holding me in suspense!"

But I fell back under anyway.

When I finally come around for good, my surroundings were perfectly normal. I sat in a rocking chair on a wooden deck. The breeze coming in smelled of strawberries, and my mouth watered at the thought. A thick blanket sat on my lap, and a pillow behind my neck. All felt good, except for my mouth, that felt like a scorpion had crawled in and started using it as a nest.

On the table next to me was tall drink. It looked like iced apple juice, with a green bendy straw and paper parasol stuck through a maraschino cherry.

"How kind of you to grace us with your presence," an overly cheery voice said beside me.

I turned to look at Cammie. I smiled. Though I had heard her when I woke up, I wasn't sure if she was okay. Looking her over, I saw she was sitting in a chair in new clothes—a orange t-shirt with the words _Camp Half-Blood _on it, and jeans that didn't quite fit her—drinking something similar to what was on the table. She looked totally unscratched, except for the cut on her cheek.

"Morning sunshine," Cammie smiled. "Nice to see your beautiful face so bright and early in the morning."

"My beautiful face?" I asked, my voice crackly.

"Well your face looks like my face, so therefor it's beautiful. Except your face is still a little bruised, so not as beautiful as mine."

"What are you doing?"

"Oh, you know, handing with the locals," she motioned behind her to a girl with curly golden hair. She was the same girl who was feeding me the popcorn-pudding. She looked like your stereotypical California girl: deep tan, curly blond hair. It was her eyes that ruined it. They were a startling gray, like storm clouds. Pretty, but at the same time, intimidating too. It looked like she wanted to fight me, kill me even.

"You're the girl who was asking me about the summer solstice," I said, pointing.

She gave me a mild glare with her stormy eyes. _What did I do?_

"Princess over here is named Annabeth. She's a camper here."

"Why do you insist on calling me _Princess_?" Annabeth asked, turning off the glare, looking curious.

"Because you have princess hair."

Annabeth rolled her eyes.

"Drink some of that." Cammie pointed to the drink. "It'll make you feel like a totally new person. Trust me." She lowered her head down, and whispered in my ear. "_The stuff tastes like magic."_

My hand was so weak I almost dropped the glass once I got my fingers around it.

"Careful," a familiar voice said.

Grover was leaning against the porch railing, looking like he hadn't slept in a week. He smiled at me. He was wearing a similar outfit to Cammie's. Orange Camp Half-Blood shirt, jeans, and converses. He held a shoe box under one arm. He looked normal. He looked like the Grover I knew at Yancy. No goat legs for him.

Maybe it was a nightmare. Maybe mom wasn't gone, and the bruises on my face that Cammie was talking about were from some freak accident where I fell down the stairs.

"You saved my life," Grover whispered. "You and Cammie did. I… well, the least I could do was go back and get this for you. Thought you might want it."

Reverently, he placed the shoe box in my lap.

Inside was a black-and-white bull's horn, the base jagged from being broken off, the tip splattered with dried blood.

Did you hear that? That was Grover shattering all my hopes of this all just being one big bad dream.

"The Minotaur," I said.

"Um, Percy, it isn't a good idea—"

"That's what they call him in the Greek myths, isn't it?" I demanded. "The minotaur. Half man, half bull."

Grover shifted uncomfortably.

"You've been out for two days, Perc," Cammie said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"What all do you remember?" Grover asked.

"My mom. Is she really…"

"We're not talking about that right now," Cammie demanded. "Now you tell me right now Percy how you are. Are you feeling okay?"

"Cammie… she's gon—"

"I said we're not _talking _about that right now. Are you okay?"

I shrugged. "I feel fine. Sore, but fine." I looked at the view in front of me. There were groves of trees, a winding stream, acres of strawberries spread out, under the blue sky. The valley was surrounded by rolling hills, and the tallest one, directly in front of us, was the one with the huge pine tree on tip. Even that looked beautiful in the sunlight. My mother was gone. The whole world should be black and cold. Nothing should look beautiful.

Cammie put the straw to the drink in my mouth. "Here, drink up. It'll make you feel better."

I sipped my drink. I recoiled at the taste. I was expecting apple juice. It didn't taste like that at all. It was chocolate-chip cookies. Liquefied cookies. And not just _any _cookies. They were moms cookies. Homemade, buttery, hot, chips still melting. Cammie was right. It was _magical_.

"What did it taste like for you?" Cammie asked.

"Like mom's homemade cookies," I replied. She smiled.

"My drink tasted like that too."

Despite the mystical drink, I still was upset over mom.

But then I look over to see my sister sitting there, making sure I drank this magical beverage like some kind of worrisome, happy façade nurse. Her concern for me was palpable in the air. I had lost my mother, but I still had Cammie, and that was a blessing in its own.

"I'm sorry," Grover sniffed. "I'm a failure. I'm-I'm the worst satyr in the world."

"That's not true," I said.

"You did the best you could, Grover," Cammie said. "And you got us out alive, didn't you? So stop complaining you ding-bat!"

He moaned, stomping his foot so hard it came off. I mean, the Converse hi-top came off. The inside was filled with Styrofoam, except for a hoof shaped hole.

"Oh, Styx!" he mumbled.

Thunder rolled across the clear sky. I flinched, remembering the last time it lit up my world.

"Stop thinking about that," Cammie hissed. "I can practically hear you thinking."

Annabeth looked at us, smiling a little, like she knew something we didn't.

"I was supposed to protect you—all of you, and I failed."

"Did our mother ask you to protect us?" I asked.

"No. But it's my job. I'm a keeper. Or, I _was_."

Grover struggled to get his foot back on. Annabeth pushed herself up from where she had been leaning against the wall, and hoped down the steps. "Well, now that you're up, I guess it's time to take you to Chiron."

"Cy-who?" I asked.

Cammie shrugged. "Beats me. I just woke up a few hours ago."

Putting my arm around her shoulders, Cammie pulled me up with effort. Grover quickly came over and helped.

"So, who exactly is this Cirin person?" I asked.

"Chiron," Annabeth corrected. "And you'll see. Be patient."

"Come on. Let's not keep Chiron and Mr. D waiting," Grover said.

The porch wrapped all the way around the farmhouse.

I was so weak after my long sleep that walking that far was a task of its own. Grover offered to carry the Minotaur horn, but I insisted on keeping it. "Well then let me hold it," Cammie said. "I haven't gotten to hold it yet!"

"You ripped it off his head," I protested.

"All the more reason I should get a turn."

I rolled my eyes and gave it to her, secretly amused. It was just like old time, me and her bickering over nothing just to get that normal brother-sister feel, then deciding that that was totally overrated.

As we came around the opposite end of the house, I caught my breath.

We must've been on the north shore of Long Island, because on this side of the house, the valley marched all the way up to the water, which glittered about a mile in the distance. Between here and there, I simply couldn't process everything I was seeing. The landscape was dotted with buildings that looked like they came straight out of some Greek movie—an open-air pavilion, an amphitheater, a circular arena—except that they all looked brand new, their white marble columns sparling in the brightly lit sun. In a nearby sandpit, a dozen high school-age kids and satyrs played volleyball. Canoes glided across a small lake. Kids in bright orange T-shirts like Grover's and Cammie's were chasing each other around a cluster of cabins nestled in the woods. Some shot targets at an archery range. Others rode horses down a wooded rail, and unless I was hallucinating, some of their horses had wings.

Cammie gripped my arm hard. "Is this not just the coolest thing you've ever seen!?" she asked me. "It's like I've got back in time and brought some modern-day things back with me!"

"Would you rather be here, or in a James Bond movie?" I asked, teasing her.

She got this worried face on, like she might actually have to choose. "Don't ask me that," she said, desperately. "I don't know _which _one I'd choose."

Down at the end of the porch, two men sat across from each other at a card table. One man was short, and round, and reminded me of a grumpy looking Porky from the Loony Tunes. He had a red nose, big watery eyes, and curly hair so black it was almost purple. He looked like those painting of baby angels—what are they called? Hubbubs? No, cherubs. That's it. He looked like a cherub who'd turned middle-aged in a trailer park. He wore a tiger-pattern Hawaiian shirt, and he would've fit right into one of Gabe's poker parties. Though, he looked like he would out-gamble even my step-father.

"That is Mr. D," Grover murmured. "He's the camp director. Be polite. And you already know Chiron…"

He pointed to the man who's back was to me.

First, I realized he was sitting in the wheelchair. Then I saw the tweed jacket, the thinning brown hair, and lastly the scraggly beard.

He turned to smile at us. "Ah, if it isn't the Jackson's up and running about."

"Mr. Brunner?" I gasped.

"No way!" Cammie laughed. "This camp just got cooler!"

His eyes glistened mischievously, like they normally did on pop quiz days and made all the multiple choice answers _B_.

"Now we have five for pinochle," he said. "Come, now, sit! You too, Annabeth."

We sat down right in front of Mr. D, whose eyes were bloodshot. He sighed deeply, as though our arrival was a big inconvenience for him. "I guess I have to say welcome to camp. There, I said it, now I say this: I'm not glad to see you, and I never will be."

"Uh, thanks." I scooted a little farther away from him because if there was one thing I had learned from living with Gabe, it was how to tell when an adult has been hitting the happy juice. If Mr. d was a stranger to alcohol, I was a satyr.

"I see you've met Annabeth," Mr. Brunner said. "She was the one who nursed you two back to health. Annabeth, would you mind checking on their bunks? They'll be in Cabin eleven for now."

She shrugged. "Sure, Chiron." She waved to Cammie. "Laters, Cam."

"Bye Annabeth!" she called back happily.

"By the way, Percy," Annabeth said. "You drool in your sleep." Then she turned around, and ran off.

"I get the feeling she doesn't like me," I muttered. I wondered why she liked Cammie and not me.

"Well I'm just a likable person, Percy," Cammie smirked. "Don't get jealous now."

"Jealous? Of my own sister? Twin at that? I don't think so."

Mr. Brunner chuckled. "It is good to see you two again," he said.

"So you work here, Mr. Brunner," Cammie asked, turning to him.

"Not Mr. Brunner," he said. "I'm afraid that was a pseudonym. You may call me Chiron."

"Like from the myths," I said. "The ones you taught in class."

Cammie said, "Chiron, like the guy who trained Jason."

He nodded, smiling. "Right on Miss. Jackson. I'm glad to see you learned a little in my house call to Yancy."

"House call?"

"My year at the school, to instruct you. I wasn't just their on vacation. We have satyrs at most schools, of course, keeping a lookout. But Grover alerted me as soon as he met you two. He sensed you were something special, so I decided to come upstate. I convinced the other Latin teacher to… ah, take a leave of absence."

"Oh, I remember," I mused. "There was this other teacher, he taught us for a while. Then he just disappeared. And you came in."

"Can you make our stepdad disappear like that?" Cammie asked.

He gave her a smile, like he could tell she knew the answer to that question: no.

She sighed. "Can only use your powers for good, huh? But that's just the thing. This guy, he's evil. Like super evil! Like he's Lex Luther, and—"

"So you came to Yancy to teach us?" I asked, cutting her off, gaining a glare.

Chiron nodded. "Honestly, I wasn't sure about you at first. We contacted you mother, let her know we were keeping an eye out for you two, in case you were ready for Camp-Half Blood. But you still had so much to learn. Nevertheless, you made it here alive, and that's always the first test."

"A+ right there, Bro!" Cammie hollered. "Can I get a high-five?"

"Grover," Mr. D said impatiently. "are you playing or not?"

"Yes, Sir!" Grover trembled as he took the fourth chair, though I didn't know why he should be so afraid of a pudgy little man in a tiger-print Hawaiian shirt.

"You _do _know how to play, correct?" Mr. D eyed us suspiciously.

"Afraid not," I said, shrugging.

"I'm afraid not, _sir,_" he said.

"Sir," I repeated. I was liking the camp director less and less.

"Well", he told me, "it' is, along with gladiator fighting and Pac-Man, one of the greatest games ever invented by humans. I would expect all _civilized _young men to know the rules."

"I know how," Cammie said. "Hand me some cards."

I eyed her.

She shrugged. "It got boring in the dorms. Missy had a stack of cards, and one of the girls knew how to play."

"I'm sure you can be on Cammie's team until you learn how," Chiron said.

Mr. D scoffed. "There are no _teams._"

"Call it me turning him into a civilized gentlemen," Cammie said. "He really needs the lessons."

Mr. D smiled proudly at her, and Cammie had a blank look on her face, one that told me what she was up to. Greasing the old man for brownie points, huh? Usually Cammie knew what she was doing in these situations. Usually.

"We playing for anything?" Cammie asked, eyeing her cards.

"No gambling," Chiron said.

"Oh come on, it can't hurt anybody!" Mr. D pouted.

"Look, I don't care about the game," I said. "What's going on here? Why are we here? I've asked this question to much, and now I want answers."

"Quite a rude boy, isn't he?" Mr. D asked Cam.

She shook her head. "Not rude. Determined. When he sets his eyes on something he wants, he gets it. It's quite the useful trait, I believe."

Mr. D shrugged, taking her word for it. I gaped at the two. This guy was Gabe in a Hawaiian shirt, and she was actually playing cards with the man, and making him _agree _with her. Actually _agreeing_. I thought I was still asleep, until she beat him at pinochle. Twice.

Chiron smiled at me like I was still his star student with a –D average. It was as if he still expected me to have the right answer.

"Percy," he said. "Did your mother tell you nothing?"

I saw Cammie flinch beside me. I grabbed her free hand under the table and gave it a squeeze.

"She said…" I remember her sad eyes as she looked out at the ocean. "She said she didn't want to send us here. That our father wanted us to come, but she thought we'd never leave or something. She wanted to keep us close."

"Typical," Mr. D said. "That's how they get killed. Now are you bidding or not?"

"What?"

He explained, impatiently, how you bid in pinochle, and so I did.

"I'm afraid there's too much to tell," Chiron said. "I'm afraid our usual orientation film won't be sufficient."

"They have an orientation film?" Cammie asked me in a hushed voice.

I shrugged.

"Well you know Grover is a satyr, correct. You also know"—he pointed to the horn in the shoe box—"that you have killed the Minotaur. No small feat, either. What you may know is that great powers are at work in your life. Gods—the forces you call the Greek gods—are very much alive."

I looked around the table, staring at all the people around it. I waited for Ashton Kucher to jump out at me. Sadly, the only yelling going on was Mr. D yelling, "Oh, a royal marriage. Trick! Trick!" He cackled as he tallied up his points.

"Mr. D," Grover asked timidly. "Can I have your Diet Coke can?"

He shrugged. "Eh? Oh, all right."

Grover bit a huge shard out of the empty aluminum can and chewed it mournfully.

"I've already figured that out… sort of. The myths you taught in class are real."

Chiron smiled. "Yes, quite. The gods we discussed in Latin class."

"Zeus, Hera, Apollo. You mean them."

And there it was again—distant thunder on a cloudless day.

"Young man," said Mr. D, "I would really be less casual about throwing those names around, if I were you."

"But they're just names. What does it matter?"

Mr. D looked to Cammie. "I don't expect him to understand, but you, I can tell you're an educated young girl. So I'll tell you this in hopes it'll actually make sense, and then you can explain it to the hopeless one: names have power. They can do things, and make things happen, so it'd be wise of him to stop the name throwing."

Cammie turned to me. "Percy, I know this might be difficult to understand, but—"

"Cammie," I said in a warning tone.

She threw her hands up in the air. "Okay, okay, I get when my humor isn't appreciated."

I looked back to Chiron. "Look, they're just stories. You taught us that. They were created to help explain lightning, and the seasons and stuff. That's what people believed before science."

"Science!" Mr. D scoffed. "And tell me, Perseus Jackson"—I flinched when he said my real name, the one I never told him. Chiron must have, I told myself. "What will people think of your 'science' two thousand years from now?" Mr. D continued. "Hmm? You mortals will call it primitive mumbo jumbo."

"I already call it that," Cammie mumbled. I gave her another look. "You do too!"

"I only say that because I don't understand it!"

"Precisely," Mr. D said.

I wasn't liking him, and I'm sure he knew it. But there was something in the way he said 'mortals' that made it seem as if he wasn't one. I hate to admit it, but that gave me a lump in my throat. '_it explains why Grover's so afraid of him,' _I thought, looking at my friend chew his soda can, and not saying a word.

"Jacksons," Chiron said. "You may choose to believe or not, but the fact is that _immortal _means immortal. Can you imagine that for a moment, never dying? Never fading? Existing, just as you are, for all time?"

"Must get tiring, being around so long," Cammie said, suddenly serious.

"Huh, it has it's perks," Mr. D said, but we ignored him.

Somehow in the way Chiron said it, made me heisted before answering. "You mean, whether people believed in you or not?" I said.

"Exactly," he agreed. "If you were immortal, and someone called you a myth to explain lightning, or the changing of seasons, would you like that? What if I told you, someday people would call you a myth, even though you're so obviously real? To explain how little children get over losing their mothers?"

The two of us flinched, and I could feel Cammie's hand clench. He was trying to make us angry, but I wasn't going to let him. "I wouldn't like it, but I still don't believe in gods."

"Oh, you'd better," Mr. D murmured. "Before one of them incinerates you."

"P-please, sir," Grover stuttered. "They just lost their mother. They must be in shock."

Cammie held up her hand. "Look, teachers have grinded it into our brains that they were stories created to explain what people believe science can explain to us now. I don't exactly _not _believe, but taking something that we've grown up with and telling us it's not real, and expecting us to up and believe—I guess it's not too hard to believe that someone can live forever, and it absolutely would explain that thing that attacked us, but right now this all seems like some sick joke."

Mr. D waved his hand and a goblet appeared on the table, as if the sunlight had bent, momentarily, and woven the air into glass. The goblet filled itself with red wine.

My jaw dropped, but Chiron hardly looked up.

"Mr. D," he warned. "Your restrictions."

Mr. D looked at the wine and feigned surprise.

"Dear me." He looked at the sky and yelled, "Old habits! Sorry!"

More thunder.

Mr. D waved his hand again, and the wineglass changed into a fresh can of Diet Coke. He sighed unhappily, popped the top of the soda, and went back to his card game.

Chiron winked at us, all offence forgotten. "Mr. D offended his father a while back, took a fancy to a wood nymph who had been declared off-limits."

"A wood nymph," I repeated, still starting at the Diet Coke can like it was from outer space.

"You were a rebel, huh?" Cammie asked, smiling down at her cards.

He sighed again. "Yes, and it doesn't help that Father loves to punish me. The first time, Prohibition. Ghastly! Absolutely horrid ten years! the second time—well, she really was pretty and I couldn't stay away—the second time, he sent me here. Half-Blood Hill. Summer camp for brats like you—" he glared at me. "He told me, "Be a better influence. Work with youths rather than tearing them down.' ha! Absolutely unfair."

He sounded like a six year old who didn't get the flavor ice cream they asked for.

"And your father is?" I asked.

"_Di immortales, _Chiron_" _Mr. d said. "I thought you taught this boy the basics."

"Let me try." Cammie smirked and pointed at him. "If you're who I think you are, your father would be Zeus."

"So that one actually got the brains," he said. "I wonder what the other one got."

I ran through D names from Greek mythology. Wine. The skin of a tiger. The satyrs that all seemed to work here. The way Grover cringed, as if Mr. d were his master.

I snapped my fingers. "You're Dionysus," I said. "The god of wine."

Mr. D rolled his eyes. "What do they say, these days, Grover? Do the children say, 'Well, duh!'?"

"Y-yes, Mr. D."

"Then, well, Duh! Percy Jackson. Did you think was Aphrodite, perhaps?"

_Don't say anything stupid, don't say anything about how he isn't pretty enough to look like her,_ I chanted in my mind. Instead I said, "You're a god."

"Yes, child."

"A god. You."

He turned to look at me straight on, and I saw a kind of purplish fire in his eyes, a hint that this whiny, plump little man was only showing me the tiniest bit of his true nature. I saw visions of grape vines choking unbelievers to death, drunken warriors insane with battle lust, sailors screaming as their hands turned to flippers, their faces elongating into dolphin snouts. I knew that if I pushed him, Mr. D would show me worse things. He would plant a disease in my brain that would leave me wearing a strait –jacket in a rubber room for the rest of my life. It suddenly made sense that Cammie was sucking up to the guy.

"Would you like to test me, child?" he said quietly.

"No. No, sir."

The fire died a little. He turned back to his card game. "I do believe I win."

"Not quite, Mr. D," Chiron said. He set down a straight, tallied the points, and said, "The game goes to me."

I thought Mr. D was going to vaporize Chiron right out of his wheelchair, but he just sighed through his nose, as if he were used to being beaten by the Latin teacher. He got up and Grover rose too.

"I'm tired," Mr. D said. "I believe I'll take a nap before the sing-along tonight. But first, Grover, we need to talk, _again,_ about your less-than-perfect performance on this assignment."

Grover's face beaded with sweat. "Y-yes, sir."

Mr. D turned to us. "Cabin eleven, Jacksons. Mind your manners."

"Don't worry," Cammie yelled to him. "I'll make sure he does!"

He smiled. "You're a real suck up, aren't you?"

Cammie gave a mockingly sweet smile.

"You do a good job at it. Come back anytime you want to play pinochle." And with that, he and Grover were gone.

"You really are a suck up," I told her.

She laughed. "But now I have a pinochle partner, so what's it matter? I can just come here anytime I feel like racking up some doe."

"Will Grover be okay?" I asked Chiron.

He nodded, though he looked a bit troubled. "Old Dionysus isn't really mad. He just hates his job. He's been… well, _grounded _I guess you would say, and he can't stand waiting another century before he's allowed to go back to Olympus."

"Can't exactly blame him," Cammie muttered. "It's like the ultimate grounding."

"Mount Olympus," I said. "You're telling me there's really a palace up there?"

"Well now, there's Mount Olympus in Greece. And then there's the home of the gods, the convergence point of their powers, which did indeed used to be on Mount Olympus. It's still called Mount Olympus, out of respect to the old ways, but the palace moves, Jacksons, just as the gods do."

"You mean the gods are here? In _America_?" I asked.

"Well, certainly. The gods move with the heart of the West."

"The what?"

"Come now. What you call 'Western Civilization.' Do you think it's just an abstract concept? No, it's a living force. A collective consciousness that has burned bright for thousands of years. the gods are part of it. You might even say they are the source of it, or at least, they are tied so tightly to it that they couldn't possibly fade, not unless all of Western Civilization were obliterated. The fire started in the Greece. Then, as you well know—or as I hope you know, since you both passed my course—the heart of the fire moved to Rome, and so did the gods. Oh, different names, perhaps—Jupiter for Zeus, Venus for Aphrodite, and so on—but the same forces, the same gods."

"And then they died?"

"Died? No. did the West die? The gods simply moved, to Germany, to France, to Spain, for a while. Wherever the flame was brightest, the gods were there. They spent several centruies in England. All you need to do is look at the architecture. People do not forget the gods. Every place they've ruled, for the last three thousand years, you can see them in paintings, in statues, on the most important buildings. And yes, Jacksons, they are now residing in the United States. Look at your symbol, the eagle of Zeus. Look at the statue of Prometheus in Rockefeller Center, the Greek facades of your government buildings in Washington. I defy you to find any American city were the Olympians are not prominently displayed in multiple places. Like in or not—and believe me, plenty of people weren't very fond of Rome, either—America is now the heart of the flame. It is the great power of the West. And so Olympus is here. And we are here."

"So, does that mean the gods are in our government?" Cammie asked. "Like, they take part in ruling our country through the government?"

Chiron smiled, and nodded, giving her a look, like he was proud that he figured it out.

It was all too much, especially when he said _we_, like me and Cammie were included.

"So you're Chiron, the… Centaur?" I asked.

His smile widened. "Yes."

"And, who are we?"

"who are you?" he mused. "Well, that's a question everyone wants an answer to, isn't it. But before we try and figure out that impossible question, how about we get you two a few bunks in cabin eleven. There will be new friends to meet. And plenty of time for lessons tomorrow. Besides, there will be s'mores at the campfire tonight, and I simply adore chocolate."

"Who doesn't," Cammie asked, standing up.

And then he rose from his wheelchair. But there was something odd about the way he did it. His blanket fell away from his legs, but the legs didn't move. His waist kept getting longer, rising above his belt. At first, I thought he was wearing very long, white velvet underwear, but as he kept rising out of the chair, taller than any man, I realized that the velvet underwear wasn't underwear; it was the front of an animal, muscle and sinew under coarse white fur. And the wheelchair wasn't a chair. It was something kind of container, an enormous box on wheels, and it must've been magic, because there's no way it could've held all of him. a leg came out, long and knobby-kneed, with a huge polished hoof. Then another front leg, then hindquarters, and then the box was empty, nothing but a metal shell with a couple of hake human legs attached.

I stared at the horse who had just sprung from the wheelchair: a huge white stallion. But where it's neck should be was the upper body of my Latin teacher, smoothly grafted to the horse's trunk.

"Think of how much money we'd make with this guy," Cammie whispered to me. "Why pull a bunny out of a hat when you can pull a centaur out of a box. Best magic trick ever."

"What a relief," the centaur said. "I'd been cooped up in there so long, my fetlocks had fallen asleep. Not, come, Jackson's. "Let's meet the other campers."

* * *

**Happy new years! and Merry Christmas too! Now I can tell all my children that I survived the end of the world.**


	6. Chapter 6

I BECOME SUPREME LORD OF THE BATHROOM

I had always wished I had some weird animal half breed teacher, but it had always been the teachers I don't like, so that when they yelled at me, they'd be less intimidating with their puppy faces. But a Latin horse teacher was okay too. The tour he took us on was nice, but I had to remind myself not to walk right behind him. I'd been on pooper scooper petrol at the Macey's Thanksgiving Day Parade a few times, and let's just say, I didn't trust Chiron's rear end.

Passing the volleyball pit, people stopped their game to watch us go by, pointed at the minotaur horn I had in my hands, whispering "That's _them_". For some reason I didn't like the attention. I poked Percy, making him take it. "Your turn," I explained to him.

Most campers were older than me and Percy, by at least a year. There were satyrs much bigger then Grover, but all of them wore matching CAMP HALF-BLOOD t-shirts. Everyone was staring at us, and instead of feeling all epic and daring, I get this sick feeling in my stomach like I wanted to hide instead of brag about killing a terrible monster to the entire world.

Looking behind me at the farmhouse, I realized it was huge. Four stories tall, sky blue with a white trimming, like some fancy resort house. I was checking out the brass eagle weather vane on top when something caught my eyes, a shadow in the uppermost window of the attic gable. Looking closer, I saw something move the curtain aside, watching me. I could see one of their eyes on me.

"Who lives up there?" I asked Chiron.

He looked down at me, then to where I was pointing. His smile faded. "Up there? Oh, no one, it's just the attic."

"But I saw someone…"

"No one is up there," he said in a final tone. "No living thing resides in that room."

Despite seeing the curtain move, and the beady little eye, I got the feeling he was right. Nothing _living _was up there.

"You saw it too, right?" I asked Percy.

He opened his mouth to answer when Chiron said in a forced cheerful voice, "Lots to see yet, Jacksons. Let's keep a move on."

We passed by the strawberry fields, and I crouched down quickly snatching a few berries of the bush without Chiron noticing. A camper picking them looked up and smiled at my sneakiness. I handed one off to Percy.

"Delicious, right?" Chiron asked, smiling at me as I took a bite.

I smiled around a juicy, sweet bite. "Amazing."

"We pick them, and ship them to restaurants in New York and Mount Olympus. Pays for our expenses, and take almost no effort," he said.

"Why? I mean, why's it so easy?" Percy asked.

"Mr. D, to put it simply. When he's around, the fruits grow like crazy. It works best with grapes, but since he's restricted from growing those…"

I nodded. "Being grounded sucks."

"Strawberries work too," Chiron smiled.

A satyr stood out in the middle of the patch, playing away on his reed pipe. The bugs seemed to swarm around him, then fly away. The song must have repelled the bugs away. I wondered if Grover could do anything like that. _Hopefully he's not in too much trouble,_ I thought.

"Chiron, will Grover really be okay?" Percy asked. "'Cause he did his job well, I swear."

Chiron sighed, peeling off his tweed jacket and draping it over his back like a saddle. "He's always had high goals. Goals that might be too high for a young satyr like himself. First he has to find, and bring back a new camper successfully."

"And he's done that!" Percy defended.

"Yeah, with _two _campers!" I added. "So he's an overachiever."

"If it was my place to judge, I'd agree, but it's not. That's up to Dionysus and the council of Cloven Elders. They may not see this as a successful mission. He lost you in New York, and was unconscious when you dragged him over the property line, and then… what happened with your mother." Chiron shook his head. "They might not see this as courage on Grover's part."

I looked down at my feet, ashamed. It was my idea to leave Grover back in New York. Because of me, he's in trouble. Grover may not have been the bravest, but he got us here, he saved us, but that might not mean anything because I wanted to leave him when he was getting a little weird.

"That's just a bunch of stupidity," I muttered, looking away. "He should get a second chance if they're going to do this to him."

"I'm afraid this was his second chance," Chiron said sadly.

I snapped my head up to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"There was an… things did not work out so well last time. The counsel didn't want to give him another chance, and when they did, he was so eager to prove himself, he only waited for five years."

"How old is he?" Percy asked.

"Hum… twenty-eight I do believe."

"What! And he's only in sixth grade?"

"My concern is how he passed off as a sixth grader," I said.

"Satyrs mature half as fast as humans. Grover has been the equivalent of a middle school student for the last six years."

"The pure horror of it all," me and Percy muttered together.

"Agreed. Even so, he's a late bloomer, not quite as accomplished at woodland magic as others his age. But his dream pushed him, and now he might have lost his chance. Maybe he'll have some other career."

"What happened last time that was so bad they didn't want to give him another chance?" I asked. "I mean, they have to be overreacting."

Chiron shook his head. "It's not my story to tell. But don't push Grover to tell you. A burden like that isn't one anyone would like to carry." He sighed. "Let's move on now."

Maybe… maybe something like my mom happened. Maybe he failed one of the incoming camper's parents. Or a loved one. Maybe they died too. But then it occurred to me, that Chiron had yet to use the word _death, _and I don't think it had anything to do with our feelings.

"Chiron," I asked.

"Yes, child?"

"Does that mean there's an Underworld too? If there are gods and all."

His expression darkened.

"I hope you aren't thinking what I think you are," he muttered darkly. "Cameron, I'm telling you—"

"Please just answer the question."

He paused. "There is a place where spirits go after death. But you must put that out of your head. And I mean it, Cameron. There's no room for those kinds of thoughts in your head right now. Not until we know more. Let's see the forest now."

I looked to Percy, and his expression was so clear, it was as if I could hear his thoughts. Like I could hear him in my mind.

_Know more of what?_

* * *

The woods were beautiful, not to mention huge. It took up at least a quarter of the valley, with trees so tall and thick, you could imagine nobody had been in there since the Native Americans.

"They're fully stocked, if you choose to take your luck in there," Chiron said, watching me stare at the forest.

"What all is in there?" I asked.

"You'll see on Friday. Capture the flag's that night. You'll need your own shield and sword. You probably don't have your own armor. A size five should do you well, Percy. Maybe a size four for you Cammie, seeing as you're a bit more petite."

I gave him a strange look, wondering what kind of summer camp used armor and swords.

The tour took forever, but the place was huge! We saw the archery range, the canoeing lake, the stables (a quick and short visit, seeing how Chiron didn't seem to like it very much), the javelin range, the sing-along amphitheater, and the arena where Chiron said they held sword and spear fights.

"Gosh, this camp has to be breaking, like, a thousand laws," I muttered under my breath.

"This camp's activities aren't something we usually share with government officials," Chiron smiled.

"Must have something to do with the sword fights, huh?" Percy asked.

"Partially. They're cabin challenges. They're not lethal all the time. And look, there's the mess hall."

Chiron pointed to an outdoor pavilion framed in white Grecian columns on a hill overlooking the sea. There were a dozen stone picnic tables. No roof. No walls.

"That's got to suck when it rains," I noted. "Where do you go? When it rains, I mean."

"Well we still have to eat, don't we?" Chiron laughed.

"Yeah, but there's no roof. Doesn't the food get soggy?" Percy asked. The thought of soggy pizza crusts, and milk mixed with rain water set my stomach churning.

Chiron just kept walking. I stepped forward, about to ask something else, when Percy put his hand on my shoulder. "Just drop it," he said, shaking his head.

Finally, we arrived at the cabins. There were twelve of them, nestled in the woods by the lake. They were arranged in a U, with two at the base and five in a row on either side. And they were without doubt the most bizarre collection of buildings I'd ever seen.

Other than the big brass numbers over the doorways of each cabin (odds on the left, evens on the right) every one of the cabins had their own, shall we call it… _style _to it. Cabin nine looked like a tiny factory, with smokestacks and the whole deal. Four had tomato vines growing on the walls, and a grass roof. Seven looked like it was made of solid gold, making it very hard on the eyes, seeing how the sun seemed to be shinning at its brightened that day.

"Now where's the house made of candy with a child eating witch inside?" I wondered aloud.

They all faced inward, toward this giant soccer field sized area, and was dotted with Greek statues, fountains, flower beds and a couple of basketball hoops (time to assemble my own basketball team—so in other words, Percy and Grover.)

In the center of the field was a stone-lined firepit. Even in the blistering heat of the day, a girl about nine years old was tending the flames, poking the coals with a stick.

"Didn't her parents ever tell her not to play with the fire?" Percy joked.

The pair of cabins at the head of the field, number one and two, looked like his-and-hers mausoleums, big white marble boxes with heavy columns in front. Cabin one was the biggest and bulkiest of the twelve. Its polish bronze doors shimmered like a hologram, so that from different angles lightning bolts seemed to streak across them. Cabin two was more graceful somehow, with slimmer columns garlanded with pomegranates and flowers. The walls were carved with images of peacocks.

_Peacocks? _I wondered. _Isn't the peacock the symbol of Hera? Yes, I remember that day in class, when we learned about her. I was trying to read the text book, but Nancy kept bothering me. we started arguing, and Mr. Brunner—Chiron I guess—told us Hera was known to hate humans, and would do cruel things to us if we didn't stop and pay attention. Then he turned and started talking about peacocks. Kind of weird to think he might of actually been telling the truth._

"Hera," I said. "That cabin belongs to Hera?"

Chiron nodded proudly. "That's correct."

"And the other one," Percy muttered. "It's Zeus's, right?"

"Yes, my boy it is. Though that's one of the simpler mysteries here."

"They look empty."

"Most of these cabins are. That's true. One and two are always empty."

Each cabin has a god, like a mascot, or a symbol for cabin challenges, maybe. Cool. But I couldn't understand why some of them were empty.

I saw cabin three, the first one on my left, and turned to get a better look. It was low, but long, and had ruff gray walls made of stone, shells and coral peppered it's sides. Creeping over, I snuck a look inside.

"Cameron, I wouldn't do that!" Chiron told me, but I went on anyway.

As I entered, the smell of salty ocean air hit me, causing me to stop, like there really was a wall there.

"It smells like…"

"Montauk," Percy finished for me.

"Just like Montauk."

The interior walls glowed like abalone. There were six empty bunk beds with silk sheets turned down. But there was no sign anyone had ever slept there. The place felt so sad, lonely even, as though it longed to have someone stay inside, even for just one night. Chiron's hand on my shoulder woke me from my trance, and I was relieved he dragged me out. "Come now," he said. "Nothing much to see here."

Most of the other cabins were crowded with campers. Number five—a nasty red paint-job with barbwire fences, and a stuffed wild boar head hanging above its large entrance—had a gang of kids inside, and by the looks of it, they could be an _actual _gang. Some of the mean looking kids arm wrestled while others yelled and screamed at each other over the loud heavy rock music. The loudest of them all, a thirteen, maybe fourteen year old girl with an XXXL _Camp Half-Blood _t-shirt on under her camouflage jacket. As soon as she spotted me, her eyes narrowed, and her lips curled up into an ugly smile, like she was already planning my death. I could almost smell her nasty breath from over here. As scary as she was, I narrowed my eyes right back, giving her my infamous glare. Percy took my elbow, stirring me away.

"Don't do that," he scolded.

"Do what?" I asked, innocently.

"You know exactly what, so stop it."

Needless to say, she reminded me of Nancy, and I wasn't about to let no Nancy-doppelganger give me that look without getting something in return, even if she is much larger, and scarier than Nancy (and had brown stringy hair instead of red, with Cheetos-spray freckles).

"You know Chiron," Percy said. "We've seen a bunch of satyrs, but we haven't seen any other centaurs around here."

"No," Chiron said sadly. "My kinsmen are wild and barbaric folk, I'm afraid. You might encounter them in the wilderness, or at major sporting events. But you won't see any here."

"I don't mean to be rude," I said. "But shouldn't you be dead?"

Percy elbowed me in the side.

"Ow! It was just a question!"

But Chiron just paused, seeming more intrigued then offended. "To be perfectly honest, I have no idea. Eons ago, the gods granted me my wish, the wish to train heroes as long as this world needed them. It was something I loved and wished to never have to give up. I guess that the world still has a need for heroes."

All those years, training student after student, watching people around you grow old and die. It seemed like a bad wish.

"Doesn't it ever get boring?" Percy asked.

"Boring? Never. Sometimes horribly depressing, yes, but never boring. Oh, look, there's Annabeth!"

Looking over to where his eyes pointed, I waved my hand at Annabeth. She looked up, waving back at me. She was reading a book in front of the last cabin on the left, number eleven.

Bouncing up from the step she sat on, she walked over to greet us. She looked over Percy critically, and I giggled, remembering her drool comment.

"What you reading, Princess?" I asked her, bending my head to get a better look at it. It couldn't read the title, and realized it wasn't because of my dyslexia, but because it was in another language altogether. Greek by the looks of it. It looked like some kind of architecture books, with statures, and columns, and temples on the cover.

"Nothing much," she shrugged.

"Annabeth," Chiron said, "I have masters' archery class at noon. Would you take the Jackson's on from here?"

"Yes, sir."

"Cabin eleven," Chiron told us, gesturing toward the doorway. "Make yourselves at home."

Out of all the cabins, eleven looked the most like a regular old summer camp cabin, with the emphasis on _old._ The threshold was worn down, the brown paint peeling. Over the doorway was one of those doctor symbols, you know the winged pole with two snakes wrapped around it. What did they call it again…? A caduceus.

Inside was packed, more girls and boys then the bunks would fit. All the free space on the ground was covered by sleeping bags. It looked like a gym where the Red Cross had set up an evacuation center.

Chiron didn't go in. The door was too low for him, but the campers still stood and bowed in respect.

"Good luck, Jacksons," he said, clapping us on the backs. "I shall see you both at dinner."

With that, he went galloping off into the sunset… or, I guess the afternoon sun, and more towards the archery range then the actual sun…so technically he just left.

Turning back to look inside the cabin, the campers were no longer bowing, instead sizing us up. I moved behind Percy a bit, that weird feeling of over-attention coming back.

"Well, don't just stand there," Annabeth said. "Inside."

I tripped a little coming in, and there were snickers around the room, which quickly stopped after Percy glared at each and every one of them.

"Cabin eleven," Annabeth announced. "These are the Jackson twins. Cammie and Percy."

"Regular or undetermined?" somebody asked.

I raised an eyebrow, not knowing what that meant, when Annabeth said, "Undetermined."

Everyone groaned, and I found myself behind Percy again.

A guy older than the rest came forward, smiling. "Now, guys, don't be rude, this is what we're here for. Now welcome the Jackson's. You guys can have that spot right over there."

The guy was about nineteen, and looked pretty cool, not to mention cute (that said, so not my type). He was tall and muscular, with short-cropped sandy hair and a friendly smile. He wore an orange tank top, cutoffs, sandals, and a leather necklace with five different-colored clay beads. Now _he _had the whole Californian surfer dude look going on. The only thing unsettling about his appearance was a thick white scar that ran from just beneath his right eye to his jaw, like an old knife slash.

"This is Luke," Annabeth blushed. I smirked, reminding myself to ask her about that later. "He's your counselor for now."

"For now?" Percy asked.

"You're undetermined," Luke explained patiently. "They're not sure what cabin you belong to yet, so cabin eleven takes all new comers, or _undetermined. _Naturally we would, our patron, is the god of travelers."

"And thieves," I said before I could stop myself.

There was a little laughter from the cabin.

Luke nodded, covering his laugh. "Yes, and thieves."

I saw Percy look over toward the spot that was ours, and then look to me. Nothing to put there except our minatory horn, but I could tell he wasn't about to leave that here.

"More twins, huh?" someone in the front said.

"Now we're not alone!" someone else said. Looking between the two I could tell they were twin brothers.

"This is Travis and Connor," Luke said.

"Nice to meet you," they said together.

Looking around the room, some of the campers eyed us suspiciously, others grinning stupidly, but a vast majority eyeing us as if they were waiting to pick our pockets.

"How long will we be here," I asked.

"Until you're determined, I suppose," Luke said.

"How long with that take?"

More laughter.

"Come on, let's go see the volleyball court," Annabeth said, grabbing our elbows.

"We already saw those," Percy said.

"Let's go see them _again,_" she hissed.

A few feet away from the cabin, Annabeth turned on us. "You have to try harder than that, Jackson," she hissed, at Percy.

"Wrong twin," I told her.

"What?" Percy asked, ignoring me.

Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Can't believe I thought you were the one."

"Wow, I did _not _see that one coming," I muttered, trying to lighten the mood.

"What's your problem?" Percy growled. "We killed some bull guy—"

"Don't talk like that!" Annabeth snarled. "You have no idea how many campers _dream_ to have that kind of chance."

"The chance to get killed?" I tried butting in again.

"I mean, to fight a _Minotaur?_! It's a like a gift to get that chance! Why else would we train every day?"

Percy shook his head in anger. "Look, if that thing really is the Minotaur—"

"And it _was_."

"Then it'd be dead by now! Killed by Theseus in the labyrinth, _eons ago!_"

"Monsters don't die, Percy. They can be killed, but they don't die."

"That's not confusing," I laughed.

"That sure clears things up," Percy scoffed.

"They don't have souls. You can dispel them for a while, maybe even for a whole lifetime if you're lucky enough, but eventually they'll reform, and come back to life again."

"YOU KNOW ANNABETH!" I said really loudly to get their attention, which it did. "THIS WAS A VERY EDUCATIONAL VIRBAL FIGHT! NOW LET'S CONTINUE IT WITH LOWER VOICES AND LESS THRETENING LOOKS! OKAY?!"

"You're the only one yelling," Percy muttered.

"Put a sock in it," I glared. Turing to Annabeth, I said, "So if you killed one, accidentally, with a sword…"

Percy seemed to get that I was hinting at Mrs. Dodds and became focused again.

"The math teacher you killed, you mean?" Annabeth said. "Yes, she's back in this world, and you've only made her very, _very _mad."

"What else is new," Percy chuckled.

"Why do we have to stay in cabin eleven anyway?" I asked. "It's _packed, _and there's empty cabins right over there."

"You don't get to choose your cabins, you get assigned to one by whoever your parents are… or parent."

"Well our mom is Sally Jackson, world's greatest blue cookie maker," Percy said "She works at Central Station, selling candy. Or at least she used to. Are you trying to tell us she's a god?"

"Not _her,_ Percy," Annabeth sighed. "I'm sorry about what happened to your mom, but I'm talking about your _dad._"

"He's dead," I told her. "We never got the chance to meet him."

Annabeth must be some old pro at this, because she seemed to know exactly what to say. "Your father isn't dead. He's a god."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I know _you_. You two wouldn't be here if you weren't like the rest of us."

"You don't know anything about us," Percy glared.

"Is that so? You move around a lot, school to school, you're a trouble maker. Trouble just seems to follow you wherever you go."

"Don't need to be a genius to know that."

"You have dyslexia, and ADHD, if I'm correct. You just can't sit still, can't stop moving, always looking for something to do."

"You must be talking about Cammie then."

"Hey!" I glowered.

"You have dyslexia because you're meant to read Greek. Your ADHD is battle-field reflexes, just waiting for you to use them. Your lack of attention is from seeing too much, not too little. You can see more than any mortal could." She took a few steps toward him. "You survived the Ambrosia and Nectar. Any mortal would have died from it. Your bones turning to sand, and blood into fire. You're a half-blood, and you might as well get used to it."

Percy's eyes burned, and I could tell he was an inch away from clobbering her. gently grabbing his arm, I turned him to look at me.

_I'm on your side,_ I said with my eyes. _Now stop._

Seeming to get exactly what I was saying, Percy excused himself, saying something about having to use to bathroom.

"Is he _always _like that?" Annabeth asked.

"Like what?"

"Thick headed?'

"Look, Princess girl," I sighed. "Whatever you have against my brother—well it's honestly not my business, but it needs to stop. Like, now."

"I don't have anything against—" Annabeth started.

"You do, and I don't know why you have a problem with him and not me."

"What do you mean by that?" it was more out of curiosity then anger.

"Well, there are a lot of reasons. Percy's nice, he's sweet, isn't a self-centered ego maniac and he bathes, so he smells good. Me on the other hand: I'm not so sweet, I have a cover that needs protecting, and I don't let people see the real me. I bathe too; just putting that out there."

"He's nice? From what I've seen of him so far—"

"He's confused, and wants answers. We saw our mother die right in front of our eyes, and he wants to know why this all is happening _now._ He's not a jerk, he's anything but. He doesn't care what people think of him, he's willing to make a complete fool of himself for someone else, and he puts up with everything I give him. And trust me, Princess, that's a lot." I shook my head. "You don't know us. You know _about _us, but you don't know _us._"

Annabeth was silent for a while. "To be honest, I don't know why I have something against him and not you. I mean, it's supper silly, and doesn't really have anything to do with me, or him for that matter."

I put a hand up. "I don't want to hear what it is. Just go straighten it up with him. He's very forgiving. Another good trait he has." I started walking towards the bathrooms. "Once you guys become friends, or at least acquaintances, you'll see exactly what I'm talking about."

* * *

Walking up to the bathrooms, I noticed Percy talking to the big ugly girl we saw in cabin 5. And when I say talking I mean, her holding him in a headlock, her ugly friends laughing.

"Excuse me!" I glared, running up to them.

"Cammie, wait!" Annabeth stuttered.

Coming right up next to them, I taped on the girls arm. "Would you be so kind as to let my brother go?" I said in a mockingly sweet voice. "It would make me so ever happy."

She just smirked at me. "You're the twin, aren't you?" she asked. All of a sudden, her arm was around my neck. "You can go in with him."

"Clarisse," Annabeth moaned. "Please, just let them go."

"What was that, _Princess?_" Clarisse growled.

"Hey! That's my name for her!" I hissed.

"You seemed to be forgetting who's in the head lock, newbie."

"And _you _seem to forget how to used deodorant!"

"Clarisse—" Annabeth tried to say.

"Stay out of it, Wise girl."

_Where's that strength from when I was fighting the Minotaur?_ I wondered. _Where are you now? _It didn't matter how much I kicked and punched, Clarisse's hold on me was steel strong, and I wouldn't get out.

Kicking open the door, Clarisse dragged us into the girls bathroom—a lovely smelling bathroom, like any other public lavatory I've ever gotten the pleaser to get a whiff of.

"Hey, what was that rumor that was going around? About these two being "Big Three" material?" we got ever so closer to those ghastly things they call toilets. "The Minotaur must have died of laughter."

Pushing us down on our knees, I looked to Percy, then at the water. It was scummy, gray and filthy.

"I don't know about you, Perc," I muttered. "But I am _not _going in there."

"I second that, sis," he hissed, getting this weird, concentrated look on his face, like he was ready to explode or something.

Then something happened. There was a soft tug at my stomach, like I was feeling something, but at the same time, I might just have imagined it. All I know is that one second I'm about to get a headful of toilet water, and the next the pipes start hissing and groaning, suddenly coming to life. Clarisse's hold on us loosened, and the next thing I know, water shoots out of the toilet, completely missing me and Percy, and then… I'm kind of confused about the next part.

Skipping ahead, Clarisse screamed, and I lay there on the bathroom floor, wondering what was going on. One second passed, and then the water shot out again, right at Clarisse's face, hitting her so hard she fell backwards onto her butt. It became stronger, pushing her into the shower stalls. It soon stopped once she was properly hosed down. Clarisse's friends ran in, and then it started again, going straight for them, right out the door.

For a moment, all was still. Needless to say, the bathroom was flooded and everyone was good and soaked in toilet water, even Annabeth. Everyone wet and grimy. Except me and Percy. A small circle was around us, forming a dry patch in the sea of toilet water.

"I don't know how that happened," I said. "But that was awesome."

Percy looked to me, then laughed.

Annabeth ran in, looking at our circle. "How did you…"

"No clue," we said.

Outside, Clarisse lay in the mud with her friends. Other campers came by to see what had happened with horror and amusement. The smell of sewage was so strong on them, I had to cover my nose.

"You're dead," Clarisse panted. "So very, _very _dead."

"You want to gargle with the toilet water again, Clarisse?" Percy asked, hooking his thumb back to the bathroom. "No? Then close your mouth."

"Well said, brother." I put my elbow on his shoulder, leaning in to whisper, "Now let's get out of here."

Annabeth stared at us like we had two heads. "What you thinking, Princess?" I asked.

"Just that I want you guys on my team for capture the flag."

I laughed, turning away, all of a sudden bumped into something. Or someone.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, looking up at the boy. Okay, stop… pause… now _stare_. I'm a pro at hiding my feelings. You'll never know if I think a boy's cute or not. But there was something about this sandy blond haired, blue eyed boy that made me stop and stare just a bit. He looked to be about my age, maybe a little older. He was tall, taller than Percy by an inch. But seriously, what's with the sandy hair in this camp!

He smiled a cute boyish smile, and said, "It's okay. I wasn't watching where I was going. Though I did see what you did back in the bathroom with Clarisse." _How could you not, it just happened a minute ago. _

He looked me up and down. "I haven't seen you at camp before. Are you new?"

I put my hand out. "Cammie Jackson."

"OH, you're that girl who killed the Minotaur, with her brother, right? I'm Josh Abrams," he said. "Son of Hermes."

"Oh, cool, I'm staying in that cabin."

"I kind of figured," he chuckled. "Determined, or undetermined."

I hesitated. "Undetermined."

Instead of looking upset, he seemed really happy about it. "Oh, that's cool."

"Yeah, so don't steal from me," I teased.

"Well if you tell me not to…"

"You'll still do it?"

"Maybe. But not if you're _really _nice to me."

"I'm always nice," I smiled. "Just tell me if I'm ever on your hit list."

"Will do. See you later Cammie." He started walking away, then turned back to me. "By the way, nice going with the Minotaur. _And _Clarisse."

I blushed. "Thanks." Waving goodbye at me, he left.

"What. Was. _That_?" Percy all of a sudden said behind me. I jumped a bit, forgetting he was right there.

"What was what?" I asked innocently.

"Looked to me like you were flirting with Josh," Annabeth said, grinning.

"When did you decide boys were cute," Percy asked.

I blushed even harder. "I don't think he's cute!"

"I'm your twin, Cam. Can't hide things from me."

I scoffed. "Yeah, you're my twin. Doesn't mean we share a brain."

"Cammie and Josh, sitting in a tree," he sang. "K-i-s-s-i-n-g! First comes love then comes marriage, then comes the—"

I slapped my hand over his mouth, hoping that no one had heard. "If you say anything that has to do with the world baby, I'm going to kill you. Understand?"

Fortunately, he did stop. Unfortunately he kept smiling and laughed time to time.

Worst part was, I did think he was a little cute.

"To tell you the truth," Annabeth whispered to me. "He is kind of cute."

Blushing, I hid in Percy's shadow, wanting to hide from the world.

* * *

**So the chameleon has been born. And enter Josh, a very important character in this story, and upcoming ones. I'm not sure if I'll be rewriting the entire Percy Jackson series, or any of the Gallagher books. I'm sure I'll at least do little one shots with the Gallagher book rewrites, and if I don't rewrite the rest of the Percy Jackson series, I'll do one shots with them. But so far, I very well might be rewriting the Jackson series.**


	7. Chapter 7

**I'm sorry it took so long to update, but in the last couple of days right when I was getting my swing back, I learned that an eighth grader from my middle school died, and although I didn't know him a couple of my friends did, and any death so close to home shakes me up. And then the day after it was the two year anniversary of a boy who committed suicide a few years back and lately that's just been hitting me a bit in a sore spot.**

**On a brighter note, I just want to say you guys are absolutely amazing! Reading your guys' reviews has been the highlight of my week. I have some bad news for one reader though, and maybe some others. Zach will _not _be in this story. If I'm rewriting the whole series he won't be there ether, but I've already decided on writing kind of a last book to everything, and _Zach will be in that, and so will the rest of the girls_. That's the only bad news I have though, so plus there! A completely new and unheard of character in this chapter! Look out everyone because here comes what will be a very important—and hopefully loving—character in my later story.**

**Back to Percy's pov.**

* * *

MY DINNER GOES UP IN SMOKE

"I'm really sorry about what happened in the bathroom, Annabeth," I said. "But that wasn't my fault."

She gave me a look, like she didn't believe me. "Whatever."

"I'm _serious._"

"And I have training to do. Just follow your cabin to the mess hall" she sighed. She made it seem like I had done it. And then I realized it _was _my fault. I had felt it, I didn't understand how, but it had happened, and I was at blame. Still Annabeth made it seem like I did it on purpose.

She started to walk away and I grabbed her hand, not wanting her to leave thinking I had tried to soak her in waste water. "Wait, Annabeth…" Though it seemed urgent, I couldn't seem to tell her what I wanted to.

Luckily, Annabeth spoke for me.

"You two have to go see the Oracle," she said.

"Who's that?" Cammie asked.

"Not who, but what. The Oracle. You must have remembered learning about past Oracles in your Latin class, right?"

I shrugged. "A little. I wasn't really paying attention. But they can tell the future, right?"

"They can tell prophecies. Give a very brief overview of things to come. They usually don't make sense till the very end."

I turned to look into the lake, wishing I'd get some straight answers once today. I didn't think anyone would be there, but there sat two teenage girls at the end of the pier, about 20 feet below. They sat cross-legged and wore jeans and shimmery green T-shirts, brown hair flouting around. They looked to me and smiled, waving.

I didn't know what else to do. I waved back.

Cammie hit me. "Dude, not now."

"Naiads are terrible flirts," Annabeth added.

"Take me home now!" I groaned, throwing my hands up and I could hear the two naiads giggle_._

"You _are _home, Percy. This place, this camp, it's the only thing standing between you and a demigod eating monster."

I shook my head. "I think I've heard enough for today. This week. My entire life!" my head was spinning, and had been for the last two days. "I just don't want to hear this."

"Your dad's alive. He's a god, Percy."

"This is all crazy," I whispered to the sky.

Annabeth turned to Cam. "What's the most common thing gods did back in the 'myths'?"

Cammie's head hung low, her hair creating a curtain between her and us. I felt almost shut out by it. "They ran around falling in love with humans, having children."

"Exactly. They had children with mortals. Do you honestly think that that's changed over the last few millennia? You know the saying: do something 21 times and it becomes a habit."

_But those are just myths,_ I thought. Remembering what Chiron told me, I crossed that out of my mind. "Who's your father then?"

The hand she had placed on the pier railing tightened, the atmosphere going from stiff awkwardness to nearly boiling hot fury

"My _father,_ is a professor at West Point teaching American history," she said blandly. "I haven't seen him in years."

"He's a human?"

"Do you honestly think there were only guy gods? That only male gods find mortal women attractive? That's sexist."

Cammie's soft hand on my arm told me to leave it. "Who's your mom then?"

"Cabin six."

"Meaning?"

Annabeth straightened with pride, chin held high. "Athena. Goddess of wisdom and battle."

_Now the creepy "I'm going to kill you" _eyes_ make sense. _

"Who's our dad then?" Cammie asked.

"You're undetermined, meaning no one knows who your god parent is."

"Are mom did."

"Maybe she did, but most likely not. Gods don't always reveal themselves to the mortals they have affairs with."

"He would have. He loved her."

I grabbed Cammie's hand, gripping it tight. It was true, I know it was. The way she talked about him, how happy the simple thought of him made her, there had to be something more in there then simple lust. He was with her for months. He had to feel something more.

Annabeth got a weird look on her face. "Maybe so. The point is, you'll have to wait till you're claimed to get out of that cabin. Until then, you two will just have to deal with it like the rest of the undetermined."

"Why is that?" Cam asked. "Why don't some kids get claimed?"

Annabeth gave a sad pause. "The god's are really busy, Cammie. They have things they have to do, and—"

"Just tell us, Annabeth," I said. "Don't water it down. Just _tell _us."

"They don't always care about us," she sighed. "Not all the gods care about us. It's sad, but true. They ignore us, and pretend we don't exist, and go make more children."

I looked over at the Hermes cabin, thinking about how full it was. I'd seen it before, at most of the boarding schools we were sent to. Boys and girls who's mothers and fathers didn't have time to love them, waiting for the call proving that all those feelings of being unloved were stupid, and childish, and being so utterly disappointed when they didn't get anything more then a Christmas card from some fancy resort. I guess gods wouldn't be too different, but honestly, wouldn't they be able to see the pain it causes their children? Don't they feel any bit of love for the kids they just up and left?

"So we're stuck here for the rest of our lives?" Cammie asked. "Will we ever be able to leave?"

"It all depends," Annabeth said. "If you're a child of a minor god, you should be fine, monsters don't see you as a threat, and if they do, summer training is enough to get you through. But for the rest of us it's too dangerous to be out there so long. Monsters like to come and challenge us, but they don't really do that until we're eleven or so and start causing trouble."

"What happens if you don't get found like we were?" I asked. "I mean, not all demigods are found, right?"

"It's true, some demigods aren't found. They ether get killed off, or just get by. Some are even famous, you'd know their names if I told you. Some kids like that don't even realize their demigods, but it's highly unlikely."

"This place is safe, though, right?" Cammie asked, as though she was nervous. "Monsters can't get in here?"

"Not unless they're summoned, and that's not very often."

"Who would be stupid enough to summon a monster in here?" I scoffed.

"This _is _a summer camp, Percy. There're pranks and challenges. People like to test themselves if they can't get out into the real world. Mortals and monsters cannot enter. On the outside it looks like a strawberry farm, so mortals don't try and get in."

Cammie cupped a handful of water, splashing her face with it. "Too much to take in while so tired," she muttered to herself.

"You're a year rounder though?" I asked.

She pulled out a necklace just like Luke's, with a golden ring on it. "You get a bead every year you survive. I've been here seven years so I have seven beads, which is longer than most counsels."

"Why have you been here so long?" Was she important? Did monsters come for her when she was still really little?

She glared at me, but it was soft, as though she wasn't really mad that I asked. "It doesn't matter. Don't worry about it."

Sighing, she sat down, patting the spot next to her signaling for us to follow. "Let's stop the small talk, and get to what I've really wanted to say." Sitting down, I looked at her face of determination, awestruck that someone could look so intense on something. "I've wanted to leave camp, get out into the real world for years. But you can't leave camp without permission from Chiron or Mr. D, that's the end of that. But there is a loop hole, and I'm hoping you guys are it." Sitting straighter, she said, "If you are granted a quest, you are allowed to leave. I've been bugging Chiron about one, but he says no every time." Annabeth shook her head in disgust.

"I know," Cammie mock sighed. "I hate it when adults try and keep us from getting ourselves killed."

Annabeth gave her a scolding stare. "We're born for these kinds of things, Cammie. We're not meant to be pinned up in here waiting to be released. We're meant to be out in the real world, fighting real monsters and not just dummies. It seems like a stupid idea from anyone who hasn't been here long, but its nature for demi-gods to fight." She clenched her fist. "If it wasn't for that stupid rule, we'd all be going out on quests, doing what we're supposed to be doing."

"What happened?" I asked. "Why can't kids be let out for quests anymore."

"That's a story for another time. But it's not like I won't ever get out. Chiron did tell me once that I was destined to go on a quest, I just had to wait for the right people to come."

Silence sat in once again as Annabeth patently waited for us to register all the information. I looked to Cammie and made a snap decision to let Annabeth in on something. "Back at that farm house, the one you were feeding me that popcorn flavored mush in."

She was puzzled for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, back in the Big House when I was feeding you Ambrosia…"

"Well, you were saying something about the summer solstice…" Annabeth's shoulders tensed, and Cammie raised her head to look at me.

_We're going to tell her?_ Her eyes seemed to ask.

I nodded.

"So you _do _know something about it then?" Annabeth said hopefully.

"I don't know if it's anything of importance, but Cammie overheard Grover and Chiron talking about it once back at our boarding school. Something about the deadline."

"And we know something was stolen," Cammie added. "That's what Mrs. Dodds had been asking us. She kept telling us to give it to her."

"She thought you stole it?"

"What is it, anyway?" I asked. "What did she think we stole?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, and that's what bothers me. Last time we were at Olympus, the gods were fine, there wasn't even yelling like usual."

"You've been to Olympus?"

Annabeth nodded, as though it wasn't a big deal. "Well yeah, we go on field trips, us year-rounders. We went in the winter for the solstice."

"How did you get there, though?"

"We took the railroad of course. Empire state building, special elevator to the six hundredth floor." She gave us a sideways glance. "You guys are from New York, right?"

Cammie pointed at herself. "Mortal life up till now, Princess."

_Not to mention there is no six hundredth floor, but whatever you say,_ I thought.

"We were then, and then on our way back, we noticed that the weather had started to change, it got worse, so obviously Zeus was upset about something. And then there were all the sea storms, so Poseidon was angry too.

"Athena can work with anyone, well except Ares, and of course there's that rivalry with Poseidon, but that still leaves lots of people who would be able to come with me."

I almost mistook the tone in her voice for one of begging, but shot it down. I could never imagine this girl begging for anything in her life. But as she muttered, "I need a quest, I _need _one," that thought seemed to falter.

I could smell barbeque smoke just behind me, and my stomach started to growl.

Annabeth looked down at it. "You guys should go, dinner will be soon."

Cammie and I stood, and I lent a hand out for Annabeth to grab, but she just waved it away. "I'll see you later."

We walked away, but I could still hear her muttering under her breath, "I'm not too young. I'm not too young."

* * *

"It would seem to me that this quest thing is starting to drive Princess to madness," Cammie commented, tapping her chin thoughtfully. We were heading to the Hermes cabin, and everyone seemed to stare at us, then look away, muttering to their friends, but seemingly forgetting about us moments later. We were quickly becoming old news.

"She's got a bit of Cabin fever, I suppose," I shrugged.

"This place doesn't seem too bad, though," she said as we walked up the stairs to the cabin.

"Way to think on the bright side," someone said from behind us. I started to turn around, but arms were flung over my shoulder, squishing me into Cammie.

"Yes, positivity is a very helpful skill when dealing with large amounts of stress," a familiar voice said from Cammie's side. Looking up at them, I saw it was the twins from earlier. Connor and Travis.

I realized that they must be identical twins too, seeing how they look exactly alike, with no visible differenced except the small mole under the one's left eye. Looking around, I realized a lot of them looked alike. Same sandy blond hair, sharp noises, and mischievous grins with a pair of matching eyes. The looked like the class clowns that everyone but the teachers loved.

"Yes, I see you noticed how much everyone here looks alike," the one with the mole said.

"It seems many were graced with good looks, just like us," the other said.

"Don't worry about the gossip going around camp," Mole-twin said. "It'll die down soon. It's just so _exiting _having new campers. Twins none the less. Twins are kind of a big deal in our world."

"Really?" Cammie blinked. "How so?"

"I don't know what you guys are talking about," Luke said, coming up to us with a plastic bag in his hand. "But you two leave them alone. You cause too much trouble."

They gasped. One said: "To hear that—"

"From our own half-brother—" the other said.

"Whom we're so close to—"

They gasped again, and said together, "That hurts!"

Luke smiled. "Too bad, go on, get ready for dinner."

They saluted him, and left. "We'll talk later about that twin thing, Jacksons!"

I waved, feeling my head spinning.

Luke dug inside his bag. "Here, I stole you guys some toiletries." By his smile I couldn't tell if he was serious or not about the stealing part.

I nodded. "Thanks."

He studied us. "Hard first day?"

I shut my eyes. "We don't belong here. We really don't."

"Everyone thinks that when they first come here," he said. "I'm sorry to say it doesn't get much easier." The bitterness in his voice shocked me. "To be taken from the only life you've ever know, and then to be thrown into this one, it's hard, but we all go through it, so we're here for each other."

He pulled out a switch blade with his name carved on the side, and for a terrifying moment, I was scared he was going to start gutting me, but instead he started scrapping the mud out of his sandal. "As you know, my father is Hermes, or else I wouldn't have landed this job of cabin leader. Anyway, he's the god of travelers, thieves, medicine, and such. In other words, anyone you find on the side of the road is a friend of his in some way."

I suppose that was a joke, but I wasn't really getting the punch line. I looked to Cammie, who normally at this point would have made some snappy come back, but she didn't seem very up to the task at the moment.

"That's why all these kids are in here?" I asked.

Luke nodded. "Hermes isn't choosy about who he sponsors."

I nearly flinched at the underlining meaning. _I'm sure he didn't mean to call you a nobody._

Sighing, he stood up. "Enough about that. It's time for dinner."

I grabbed Cammie's hand, pulling her up with me. "You were terribly quiet during that," I noted.

She shrugged, saying, "Sometimes I get tired of hearing myself talk."

"Since when?"

"Since I found out our Latin teacher was half horse."

I smiled a bit. "Yeah, I guess that can set anyone back a bit." I grabbed the Minotaur horn, still not trusting it to be left alone, and dragged Cammie outside. We staying in the back of the group, and I can't help but still consider ourselves as outcasts, even here with the rest of the freaks.

We all lined up in a straight line, boys and girls from almost all the cabins falling in, and marched to the pavilion. I watched as we gathered more and more people on the way. Girls jumped out of the lake and woods. No seriously, I watched a girl who was about ten or so literally _walk _out of a tree.

When we got there, everyone split up according to their cabins. The pavilion was lined with torches, and a giant fire pit burned in the middle. The tables were made of a gray marble, and coved with white tablecloths lined with purple. Table eleven was jam packed with kids, and we were almost pushed off the bench. I spotted Annabeth sitting with a bunch of athletic kids, and I could feel Clarisse's burning glare in the back of my head from a table filled with an assortment of other uglies.

"You'd think she'd of gotten over it by now," Connor or Travis said, sitting down across from us.

"Well, Connor, it was utterly humiliating," 'Travis' laughed. Naiads skirted around the tables, bringing barbeque, and other sorts of foods—grapes, cheese, bread, strawberries—around.

"Okay, note to self, Connor has the mole under his eye," Cammie muttered to me. I nodded.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right," Connor smiled. "Clarisse holds grudges for a _long _time."

"Here, you two pile 'er up," Luke said, handing me a platter of the delightful smelling smoked brisket. My stomach started growling from the scent. Luke laughed. "Come on now, before you starve."

I quickly piled a mountain on my plate, and was about to dig in when Cammie tapped my shoulder. I looked up at where she was pointing. Everyone was getting up and going to the pit in the middle of the pavilion. I looked to her and she shrugged. "Not the weirdest thing we've seen so far today."

I got up, and stood behind Luke. "What's going on?" I asked.

"Offerings for the gods. They like the smell," he said, not looking back.

"They like the smell of burnt food?" Cammie said, scrunching her nose. I bumped her.

"Careful what you say," Luke said, looking worried, throwing in some grapes as he talked. "I know you don't mean offence by it, but the gods can hear what you say, and you don't want to upset them. There are consequences if you do."

Her face soured a bit as she pushed some brisket into the fire. Suddenly she stopped, and started sniffing the air. I looked at her questionably, throwing in some of my own food. _To whoever you are dad, _I thought. _Please claim us soon._ I was about to leave when the smell hit me too. It was wonderful, and I wouldn't be able to describe it with words.

There was a laugh behind us. "First whiff of the smoke," a boy behind us said. I recognized him from before, but where?

"Josh, right?" Cammie asked, smiling.

He nodded. "Nice to see you again, Cammie and Percy."

I nodded. "Likewise."

"I'm sitting at the other end of the table, but if you want you can squeeze in by me," he offered.

"No way man!" Travis said, throwing his arm over me. "We're going to have a heart to heart with the new campers."

"Very important stuff to discuss," Connor finished.

Josh just smiled, as though he was used to this. "Okay, see you later."

Travis and Connor pulled us away, sitting us back down in our spots. "Now, onto the important stuff."

"The _twin _stuff."

"What's so big about being a twin?" Cammie asked. "There are lots of twins."

"Yes, but you do not know of the bond those twins have," Travis said.

"Have you ever heard the story of Castor and Pollux?" Connor asked.

We shook our heads.

"They were two twins with a very close bond. Brothers who were never separated."

"But one day," Connor continued. "Castor died, leaving his brother all alone."

"So desperate over his brother's death, he went to the gods, and offered up his own mortality to be with him again."

"The gods made a deal with Pollux. They would take half his mortality, and he and his brother could stay together. Half the year on earth, and the other in the stars."

"That's why you only see their constellation—Gemini—half of the year."

"That's the story," Connor said, sipping his drink.

"What was so special about their bond," Cammie asked. "What made it so strong?"

The two smiled. "They could talk to each other with their minds."

Silence took over us.

"Okay, that's funny, now tell us, really," I said, laughing.

They laughed too. "It's true. They could talk to each other through their minds. Some even say they shared dreams too. Me and Connor can sometimes share thoughts, but we've never shared a dream."

I looked to Cammie. Shared thoughts? Shared _dreams?_ Just last night—or really a few nights ago—the last time I dreamt, Cam had the same dream I had. At the school, it was almost as if I could hear her wishing me good luck when she left to go back to her room. With all the crazy things I'd seen in the past couple days, months really, it didn't seem completely impossible.

"Is it common for twins to have this—connection?" I asked.

"Yes, every twin has a connection, but it only works if you know about it. Mortals don't usually know they have a connection, unless somehow they stumble upon it somehow."

I took a bite of my brisket, and started to chewed it all over, when suddenly a girl plopped down in front of us. "You look thirsty," she said, smiling at us and cocking her head to the side. She had short mid-shoulder length black hair that curled slightly, as though it was wet. Her eyes were an intense blue, icy colored, but warm at the same time. "Tell the glass what you want. Go on, say it."

"Cherry coke?" Cammie said. And almost in that same moment the glass filled with a caramel colored liquid. Smirking, she added, "Blue cherry coke." It turned violet.

"I for one prefer orange coke," the girl said, and her cup with an orange liquid. "I'm Rowen Wilric by the way. Roe for short. I'm undetermined just like you guys."

"I'm Cammie, and this is my brother Percy," Cam said, smiling.

"Roe," Travis whined. "We were talking to them!"

She smirked at them. "Two bad, you have to share the newbies."

"So you're a daughter of Hermes?" Cammie asked.

Roe shook her head, twiddling her fingers. "No, I'm undetermined, just like you guys, so at least you're not alone," she smiled.

I put a hand on my face. "How long to demigods stay undetermined usually?"

"You want me to be honest?" she said raising an eyebrow.

"Brutally, if you must," Cammie said.

"Nearly forever. But don't look so down about it, you guys will be claimed in no time," she smiled.

I cocked my head sideways, giving her a look. "What makes you say _that_?" I asked. "Why would our father want to claim us?"

Her hands thumped on the table, and she leaned forward, grinning widely. "You guys slayed the Minotaur! You soaked Clarisse in _toilet water._ There are counselors who are looking up to you right now! I can't think of a god that _wouldn't _want to claim you."

"The Minotaur was just luck," I said, rolling my eyes. "We nearly died because of it. There wasn't any bravery or anything."

She just looked at us knowingly. "You're not all that different you know. Everyone here's gone through it. You're not alone." She started playing with her bead necklace, spinning it around. "It seems like it, but really almost everyone here didn't start our believing in the gods, so we understand."

We were all silent for a moment, poking at our food.

Finally, Roe piped up again. "My coming to camp story isn't as good as yours, but it's still kind of interesting."

I smiled. "I'd love to hear something that doesn't have to do with us."

Her smile was all Cheshire cat, devious, and almost terrifying. "Oh, it's nothing to special. I'm sitting in my fourth grade class, just working on my division, when suddenly my teacher's pulling me out of the room, saying she needs to talk to me. We go outside and she throws me in her car, mumbling something about how she needs to get me to some kind of "camp" and I'm so confused, and trying to ask her what she's talking about. We stop at a hotel somewhere near Ohio, and I'm watching the news on TV, and suddenly, there I was! Apparently on of the teachers saw me getting taken and thought I was kidnapped. So suddenly we go from this cake walk of a road trip to a never ending high-speed chase to Camp Half-Blood." Roe took a large gulp of her soda.

I laughed. "Though it's not as interesting as ours, it still sounds better."

She shrugged. "I can't complain. My teacher was never arrested or anything and I got to camp safely, that's all that really matters." She was lost in her own thoughts for a while, then said, "Do you guys know how to play role rummy?"

For the rest of dinner, the conversation was easy and enjoyable, a nice change. Cammie and Roe seemed to really hit it off, and I was glad she finally had a friend she could talk girl stuff with.

Chiron pounded his hoof on the wood flooring, gaining everyone's attention. All was noiseless as we waited for him to start talking. He nudged Mr. D with his staff. He looked up and sighed, muttering something. Getting up he said, "Hello, I suppose. Have you had a good dinner? Yes you have, if you haven't, too bad you ungrateful brats. Next capture the flag is on Friday Chiron tells me, Cabin five holds that present laurels."

Everyone at the Ares table jumped up, cheering, knocking over their benches.

"Hush you monsters!" he growled. "I'm trying to get this over with. Anyway, welcome new campers, Cameron and Peter Johnson."

Chiron murmured something to him.

"Er, Cameron and Percy Jackson," he corrected. "Hurray, hurrah, go on to your campfire."

Everyone got up. "He messed up my name on purpose," I hissed.

"If it makes you feel better, he messed up my last name," Cammie said, shrugging.

"Come on," Roe said, grabbing Cammie's arm. "We have to get down to the campfire."

Everyone was running down, but we stayed behind a bit.

"What's it like?" I asked Roe. "Being undetermined I mean."

She shrugged. "It's not too bad, I guess. In all aspects, I'm lucky to even be alive. But, yeah, it's hard, having the only thing you really know is that you're a demigod whose mother doesn't want her." She sighed. "I don't belong in this cabin. I have siblings in this camp, somewhere and I don't even know who they are. There's a bed somewhere in this camp that belongs to me, but no one knows I'm supposed to be in it at night. For the moment, I don't really belong anywhere."

A tear ran down her cheek, and I silently scolded myself for being so selfish. I had my sister, and wherever I was at night, I had my family with me. But Roe didn't. She could walk past them every day and they won't even know they're siblings.

Roe laughed sadly. "Okay maybe I have a problem with it."

Cammie grabbed her hand. "Well, it seems we're all undesirable at the moment, so why don't we stick together until we are wanted?"

Roe smiled at her. "We starting a club or something?"

I smiled, and put my arm around her. "Why not? We could call it the unwanted club. We could have secret meetings and stuff. We could have _prizes! _Ignition could be jumping in the lake in the middle of the night."

"No, you don't want to wake the naiads," Roe said. "They're not morning people."

* * *

Down at the campfire, the Apollo cabin lead the singing about gods and we all got s'mores, and jokes around like we'd known each other forever, as though we weren't the new kids, but actually part of the family. it felt like I finally found a place to call home.

After the campfire, when it was finally dying down, a conch horn blew for the last time that night, and we all fled back to our cabins. I didn't even realize I was that tired until my head hit the pillow. My fingers held the Minotaur's horn to my chest, and I whispered, "Good night," to Cammie, whose head lay next to mine.

"Night, Percy. Maybe I'll see you in my dreams," she gurgled tiredly. I chuckled.

"We'll see."

I thought about mom, but they were all good thoughts, thought's that made me smile: her beaming grin, the bedtime stories she would read us when we were little, the way she would tickle us and say, 'now don't let the bed bugs bite'. She would be happy for us, I thought. we've finally found a place we could fit in.

I closed my eyes, and fell asleep instantly.

My first day at Camp Half-Blood. My new beginning. If only I knew how much it all meant to me.

* * *

_"So they weren't lying about the dreams, were they bro?"_

* * *

**If any of you are confused by the ending line, it's Cammie kind of saying, so Connor and Travis were right about twins sharing dreams. I just didn't know if anyone would get that last line.**


	8. Chapter 8 part one

WE CAPTURE A FLAG—PART ONE

* * *

A few days had pasted since me and Percy's first day at camp, and I found myself falling into a nice and comfortable routine. A normal feeling routine, excluding the satyrs, nymphs, sword fighting lessons with _real _swords, talks of gods and quests, monsters, and a Centaur.

Every morning, Percy and I would meet up with Annabeth teach us Ancient Greek, and we'd talk about the Gods and Goddesses, which was weird using present tense. And Annabeth was right about our dyslexia. Ancient Greek was a lot easier to read, and I found myself to be a quick learner. By the end of the week, I had already read half of a Homer book Annabeth had me test drive. Percy was okay with it, but seemed to get a massive headache whenever he tried.

The rest of the day, we'd try an assortment of outdoor activities, trying to see which one called best to us. We figured out very quickly that while one day we might be able to handle a bow and arrow without severally injuring someone, archery wasn't really our calling. Just ask the poor satyr on the reserving end of that lesson. Chiron, who ended up teaching us, didn't seem to really mind, even when he had to pull arrows out of his tangled tail.

And foot racing? No good. The teachers left us in the dust. They just so happened to be wood nymphs, and told us that they had centuries of practice running from love struck gods, and not to worry about it, but still didn't make me feel any better. And here I thought I had had tons of training in that area, running from bullies (only the big scary ones).

Wrestling? Let's just say Clarisse had a fun time shoving my face into the sweaty mats, leaving a fair share of my blood on it. And every time, she made sure to tell me, "And this is why you don't mess with an Ares kid."

On the upside, I rocked at canoeing, even though that didn't spell hero, it might come in handy. Or at least that's what I told myself.

Everyone seemed to try and figure out where we belonged, though were in no rush to try and claim us as their own. We weren't as strong as the Ares kids, or as good at archery as the Apollo kids. Medal work wasn't for us, so we weren't Hephaestus kids, and we didn't seem to have any kind of plant skill to be a kid of Dionysus—I'm sure Percy would shoot himself before he got claimed by that guy, same goes for Mr. D. Luke kindly suggested that we might be a Hermes kid, a kind of jack-of-all-trades, master of none. Though I was sure he was just saying it to be kind, I appreciated it.

"Maybe we're sisters," Roe said one night. We were in the girls' bathroom, brushing our teeth before bed when I brought up my talent search. "It's possible, you know. We both have black hair, and blue eyes. Different shades of blue, but blue none the less."

I smiled. "That would be awesome," I said before spitting out my toothpaste. "Did you have to do all these tests when you got here?"

She nodded. "Yeah, but like you, I didn't really fit in anywhere obvious. But then again, no one really tried all that hard. There's so many undetermined, they can't really spend a bunch of time on each." She looked at me. "Though, you and Percy are different. Everyone's trying so hard. Probably because you're special."

I scoffed. "In what way? Is there a god for messing up? In that case, I'm defiantly their child."

Roe spit her toothpaste at me, and I moved to avoid it. "You're such an idiot. You defeated the Minotaur, that counts for more then you know." Washing out her toothbrush, she put it back in her toilets bag, and started walking out. I quickly ran to catch up with her.

"I obviously haven't explained my life enough," I sighed.

She turned to me. "You have explained enough. And it only makes more sense. You're a misfit, a mess up. Well everyone here _is. _You don't think you belong anywhere because it's not obvious to anyone, but there are a lot of kids like that too. Look at me, no special talents, not even non-useful talents."

"But you said you don't belong anywhere."

"That's just the thing, Cam. I belong where no one belongs. I belong with the no one's, the undetermined. We're a little family of our own. Once you fully settle in, you'll see."

I wanted to tell her I could see how unhappy she was with all this. Without her mother claiming her, but I had a feeling it'd only make things worse. So I bit my tongue and let her complement me, and people stare and wonder, even though I didn't like it. Eyes followed me where ever I went, like I was on some kind of reality TV show I didn't even sign up for. That every single move I made was seen and reported, and spread, like jam on toast, leaving only the small edge of people who didn't know what I had failed at that day.

Other than that, Camp was fun, and I found myself thinking of it as home. I woke up to the morning fog over the beach, the smell of strawberries in the afternoon, and the soft howling of monsters in the forest at night, an activity I promised myself I'd try once I was good at defending myself. Dinner with the Hermes cabin was always a blast, and I got a good whiff of the burning food in the pit every time. And every day, as I scrapped in some food, I prayed that our real father would give us a sign of who he was, but every day he disappointed, leaving only that warm feeling of the memory of his smile that was growing colder and colder by the day.

I started understanding Luke's bitterness, feeling some of my own. Were they just busy all the time? Too busy for their children? If they were so grand and powerful, what stopped them from seeing their own children? Did they think they were too good for us? How Luke could still smile and joke was a mystery to me, but gave me some hope as well, knowing that even if I wasn't claimed, life would go on like it always has. Even if the gods didn't care for us.

I tried not to think of mom, but at night I couldn't help myself from reliving that last time I saw her. I'd curl up closer to Percy. He always understood, feeling the same as me. At night, in our dreams, we'd talk about if there was a way to save her. Monsters were real. Gods were real. That meant the underworld is real. Mom had to be there, and if all the myths were true, there was a way to get her back. I was prepared to do anything.

* * *

Thursday afternoon, three days after it all started, I had my first sword fighting lesson. _Fun_. Everyone from cabin eleven gathered in the big arena area. Probably to watch us fail.

"This is humiliating," I sighed. "What joy could they possibly have from watching us fail miserably?" It was like being back in school all over again, the teacher calls on me, and I start babbling idiotically, having spaced out the entire class period. All I'd get was disappointed stares.

Percy smiled at me. "Don't worry, it'll be fine. I'll go first if you want?"

Suddenly Travis and Connor were behind us, arms around our shoulders. "Nope, Luke says Cammie goes first this time," Connor said.

I raise an eyebrow at him. Even though everyone else, except Roe, had seemed completely uninterested in being our friends, Connor and Travis, though a few years older than us, seemed to have "taken us under their wings", or so they say. I didn't complain. Having those two around was like having two older siblings always watching out for you, except without the verbal fighting.

"And why do I have to go first?" I asked.

They shrugged. "No idea."

"Maybe it's because Percy's gone first in everything so far," Travis shrugged. "Not sure."

Roe came up to me from behind, hugging my shoulders. "You'll do great," she said.

I glared at her. "And how did you come to this assumption?"

She shot me a dazzling white smile. "I believe in you, Friend."

I rolled eyes, and Percy laughed. "You're just worried you'll suck."

"Uh, yeah?"

"We'll be starting with group warm up first, so you have nothing to worry about," Luke said from behind us. I don't like to admit it, but I jumped. "Find a sword and start on a practice dummy."

Me and Percy searched for swords, but couldn't find one that really…how do I say this without sounding dumb…well, none really spoke to us. None really felt like it had a place in my hands. They were ether to light or to heavy, or too long. Luke had told us it was probably hopeless finding a match in the practice swords, and to just find the best one, and get to work. Despite the complications, I didn't do too shabby. I hit home where I was supposed to, and if that dummy had been real, he'd be minced meat. As long as he didn't move.

I heard Connor and Travis muttering in some weird language. It wasn't English, and it wasn't Greek. It was sloppy, and a bit childish. Made up really. "Hey, what are you guys speaking in?" I asked.

"Our language."

I cocked my head to the side. The universal sign for _what_.

Travis laughed. "Don't tell me that you and Percy didn't make up a language when you were kids?"

"Never," Percy and me said at the same time. To be honest, it was a lie. When we were kids it was the only language we spoke really, other than when our mom talked to us. We tried to teach her, and she got a few words and phrases, like "I love you" "Candy" and "Blue", but other than that she didn't really understand.

"Well _we _did," he said. "That way, no one can ease drop into our conversations."

"It's kind of a reassurance policy that when we talk about Clarisse we don't get a face full of sweaty mats," Connor smiled.

I looked to Percy and could see the same idea going off in both of our heads. _We have to start using our secret language again._

Luke whistled loud and long. "Stop the chit-chat and listen. We're going to pair up now and work on some moves. Percy, Cam, I don't trust those buffoons to teach you anything, come over here." By the offended gasps Connor and Travis made, I was guessing they were the buffoons. But luckily we were going to be taught by Luke, a guy who I'd heard plenty of roomers of being the best swordsman in the last century.

Roe gave me a sympathetic look, making me rethink my last statement. "Good luck. Luke's not going to go easy on you just because you're new."

And he didn't. In fact, I think he might have gone harder on us than anyone so far. When we came in for group, he has us demonstrate, and continued to beat down on us, making me wish I was somewhere else.

_He's trying to bring out whatever adrenalin rush we had during the fight with the Minotaur, _I thought.

_Of course he is,_ Percy's voice invades my mind. _He wants to know who we are just as bad as the rest of them._

_It's creepy when you invade my mind_.

_Not invading. Just practicing my mind communication skills._

"Get your heads into the game, Jacksons!" Luke said, hitting Percy on the back of the head. He then pointed his sword at me. "I'll only need one person for this next one. You're up. Get some water and let's go."

_You bet I am,_ I said, trying to pump myself up, but not finding the motivation. I went to the water cooler, taking a few swallows, then pouring the rest on myself. I felt a lot better, and that non-existent motivation swirled in the pit of my stomach.

I walked up, reading myself for mass humiliation. I could already hear the laughs.

"This is a very hard technique, takes years to master, so no laughing!" Luke stressed. "This is the way to disarm your enemy with the flat of your sword." Suddenly he disarmed me, so fast I didn't know what had happened. I picked up my sword again, and he demonstrated in slow motion.

"Now, we're going to go until one of us disarms the other. Don't worry if you don't do it, I've been told I'm a master," he grinned. I couldn't help but smile back.

I as too busy smiling to notice he was coming right at me. I made a couple blocks with my sword, and he seemed to be having trouble getting the hilt of my sword. That must have been some good H2O, because suddenly, all my senses were open, all his moves were predictable. I suddenly became the offensive one, going for his hilt. He deflected it, but the surprised look on his face said I did something good. His eyes narrowed a bit, and his hits became for forceful, pushing my significantly smaller body back.

The magic water was wearing off. The sword became heavy again, and I had a hard time holding it up. _Cam…? _Percy's voice sounded in my head.

Ignoring him, I thrust forward. If I wanted to prove myself, it was now or never.

Going in for the kill, I used the disarming maneuver.

The tip of my sword hit base on his, and I twisted, putting my whole weight into a downward thrust.

_Clang._

_Did I really just do that?_

_I think you did, Sis._

There, by his feet, lay Luke's sword. I noticed my sword was pointing at his undefended chest.

The room was silent.

I quickly backed up. "Sorry. I didn't—"

"Didn't what, Cammie?" Luke said incredibly. His face broke out into a grin. "Why in the world are you sorry!? That was amazing! Show me again."

"I really think it was a one round thing," I muttered.

"Nonsense, again."

_No nonsense. It's non-nonsense, if that's even a word. _

Needless to say, the moment our swords hit, I was down for the count.

"Beginners luck?" someone from the audience shot out.

Luke looked skeptical, wiping the sweat off his brow. "Possible, but I'm very interested to see what she could do with a balanced sword…"

With all the stares on me, I made a quick exit to the drinking cooler. If I could hide out here for a bit, I'd be able to get over this, and hopefully everyone one else would forget what had just happened.

"Uh, Luke!" Connor called from the crowd.

Luke swiftly turned around, looking him in the eye. "Yeah, what up?"

"Well, I think I speak for everyone when I say, I'd like to see the two Jacksons fight you together. I mean, they defeated the Minotaur together, so maybe they can best you too." Travis shrugged, as though to say, what's the worst that could happen.

A murmur when throughout the crowd. The idea seemed to appeal to everyone, and I didn't exactly disagree. Me and Percy worked well together, like cherry and coca cola. We supported each other's best abilities, and make a killer combination. If there was any hope of actually beating Luke it was together.

Luke rubbed his chin, thinking it over. "I've got to say, I've had the same idea myself." He smiled at clapped. "Let's give it a shot!"

Percy walked up to me, smiling. "Mind giving me some before we go up."

I gave him a cup. "Drink up." I quickly swallowed my drink, heading over again.

"Think of the Pros and Cons," Percy advised. "When you get nerves, think of Pros and Cons."

So I did.

**PROS AND CONS OF FIGHTING THE BEST SWORDSMAN IN THE **

**LAST CENTRY WITH YOUR BROTHER**

**Pro: I get to fight with my brother while being hyped up on magic water.**

**Con: If we fail, we make fools of ourselves.**

**Pro: If we win, we get some cred' around this place.**

**Con: Already defeated the Minotaur. Don't need any more cred'.**

**Pro: This could be fun.**

**Con: It probably wasn't going to be fun.**

"Let's just get this over with," I muttered.

"That's the spirit!" Percy smiled.

We set ourselves up together in front of Luke. He looked us both over before yelling, "Go!"

_Split up,_ I thought at Percy.

As Luke lunged at us, I flew left, Percy flew right. Luke's sword dug into the dirt. Pulling it back out, he spun quickly, and I braced myself for the oncoming thrust. The force nearly threw me back.

_Switch positions! _Percy yelled. Giving Luke a thrust of my own, I pushed him back, and Percy took my place under Luke's sword. Luke seemed confused for a split second, then started the disarming maneuver.

_Think Cammie, think! _I yelled at myself. _His momentum is going downward. Stop the downward thrust, cut the effect. Takes a lot of strength, though, and I don't have much of that. Not enough to stop two swords. I have to stop Luke's before it hits Percy's._

I thrust my sword right under Luke's, locking my elbows, and pulling upward. Luke stumbled back, and fell on the ground. Percy ducked under my sword, pointing his at Luke's chest, but he rolled out of the way just in time, jumping back up.

"You two are good," he laughed. "Keep it up!"

_He's distracting us,_ I warned Perc. _Trying to get us to remember he's our friend._

_Well he is our friend._

_Not right now. He won't go easy on us, we can't go easy on him. _ if I just let my emotions take over, he's pin us down in a second flat. We needed to forget who he was for a moment. He needed to be the bad guy.

_Get behind him,_ Percy said, and I quickly followed.

I swung at him, but was hit back just as quickly. Luke pivoted his hips, meeting Percy's swing half way. By that time I'd recovered, going in again. Again, I was denied victory. It was like he was playing pinball with our swords.

_I'll wait a second, go in then,_ I said.

As the block came, I leaned back, and he missed me by an inch. He started turning my way, but Percy regained his attention, and I made my move then. He couldn't defend himself from both of us at once.

Luke found himself sandwiched by sword tips.

Our success wasn't met by silence this time. The crowd cheered, Roe and Travis and Connor being the loudest.

Luke's sweaty arms came around our shoulders. "I think we found something you're good at."

I looked up at him. "Unfair sword fighting?"

"Sword fighting _together_."

* * *

It was Friday, and I was sitting next to Grover at the lake. Percy was panting, trying to regain his breath from his near death experience on the climbing wall. While Grover had quickly jumped to the top (something I doubt he could have done without his goat legs), Percy seemed to be having a harder time dodging the lava. His shirt was still smoking.

"So I think it's safe to say we can't climb mountains," Percy sighed.

"Cammie hasn't even tried though," Grover frowned.

I waved my hands. "No way am I going up there after witnessing _that._" Percy was back to being first at everything. I wasn't about to let another event like the sword fighting occur again. It was all the people in the cabin talked about, and soon the whole camp. More than once I'd had offers to face off with other campers.

The boys started talking about who knows what, so I watched the naiads weave baskets underwater. There was a question that had been biting into the back of my mind ever since the first day of camp, and waiting to asked seemed like a bad idea, so I jumped right in.

"So, Grover, how was your talk with Mr. D?" I asked, butting into their conversation.

Grover's face turned a sickly shade of yellow.

"It's…fine."

"He hesitated," Percy said. "That means he's lying."

"Come on, Buddy," I said, putting a hand on his back. "You can talk with us. How's the career going?"

He slowly turned to me, grimacing. "Chiron t-told you I want a searcher's license?"

Percy started to talk but I put a hand on his mouth. "Along those lines, yes," I nodded. "But I'm interested to hear more." Because honestly all I knew so far was pretty much nothing. I was lucky enough to get that out of him. I didn't know what this searcher's license is, but it must be very important to him. "You needed credit for completing a keeper's assignment, which you did. So you got it right?"

He gave me a sad look. "I didn't complete my assignment."

We froze. "How didn't you?" Percy asked. "You got us to camp. Completion."

Grover sighed. "I haven't failed _or _succeeded with you two yet. Mr. D won't make a decision until I've gone on a quest with you, and we come back alive."

"So where do we get one of these quests?" I asked. He had saved our lives, not to mention he was our best friend. We had to get him this license.

"_Blaa-ha-ha!_ Don't you get what that means? I'm practically done for! You'll never get a quest, and even if you did, you wouldn't want me along—"

"And why's that?" I asked, fixing him with a _don't-you-dare-try-and-bring-yourself-down-or-I'll -bring-you-down _look.

"What useful talents do _I _have?"

We did our best to convince Grover he was the best satyr there was, and we would be better with him then an army, but it didn't make him feel any better, I could tell.

"What's up with the four empty cabins?" I asked, seeing our previous conversation going nowhere.

That seemed to perk up his interest. It was learning time, and I could see he liked playing teacher. "Well Cabin eight is for Artemis, it's that big silver one. She swore a vow of maidenhood, so no kids for her. It's more of an honorary building then anything."

"Are the other for the big three then?" Percy asked. "Those last three buildings?"

Grover shook his head. "No, cabin two is for Hera. She wanted an honorary building too, so the camp built her one. She's goddess of marriage, so she wouldn't dare have affairs with mortals. No demigod children."

"So which big three doesn't have a cabin?" I asked. "Assuming that the other two do belong to the them?"

Grover nodded. "Hades. He's the one without a cabin." Sensing my next question, he said, "Hades doesn't have a throne in Olympus ether, mainly because he just sits around at home in the Underworld. Any cabin he had up here…" He shuttered. "Well it wouldn't be pleasant."

"Didn't they have like a million kids? Why isn't that cabin overfilling?" Did they not come here? Were they too good for the rest of us? I couldn't help but be confused at this. Why weren't there any kids in those cabins?

Grover shifted uncomfortably. "It happen sixty some years ago. World War II started when the sons of Zeus and Poseidon fought the sons of Hades. You can imagine what affect it left. After World War II, the big three made an agreement. They were not to have any more children with mortal woman. They were to powerful, and caused too much trouble in the mortal world. They swore on the River Styx."

Thunder boomed.

"That's some serious stuff, isn't it?" I asked. "Swearing on the River?"

Grover nodded.

"The promise was kept, right?" Percy asked. "There were no more children."

It sure would explain the empty cabins. They stood as honorary buildings now, I guessed.

But the look on Grover's face, how it darkened, and became sad, only showed how wrong Percy was. "What happened," I asked after several beats of silence. "There were more children. What happened?"

"Thalia, her name was Thalia. Daughter of Zeus. Seventeen years ago, Zeus couldn't help himself when he met this TV star, a beautiful woman with the big hair and everything. They had a child together, and the promise was officially broken. Zeus got off easy, being the king of gods and all, but Thalia on the other hand…"

There was regret in Grover's eyes. He closed them, and continued. "Children of the big three are dangerous. They have greater powers then the rest of the demigods, and they have a stronger scent to attract monsters. It was no surprise that when Hades found out, he was fuming. He let out the worst monsters to go after her, spent day and night thinking of new ways to torcher her. A satyr was assigned to her when she was twelve, and he escorted her and some other demigods she found to camp." He shook his head. "They weren't fast enough. They got to the top of the hill, they almost made it."

He pointed across the valley, at the big pine tree that we fought the Minotaur. "The three kindly ones came after her, all of them along with an army of hellhounds. They would have been killed if Thalia hadn't told her satyr to take the other demigods to the top. But she was untrained, and didn't last very long. The satyr didn't want to leave her, but he had the other two to think of. She made her last stand alone—she died alone at the top of that hill.

"Zeus took pity on her, and turned her into that pine tree up there. While she might have died, her spirit stayed alive, and it protects the camp. That's why the hill is called Half-Blood Hill."

Silence followed. Tears swelled in my eyes. This wasn't fair. Not fair at all. Hades had her killed for nothing. He had her murdered for something she had no control of? This innocent little girl, a girl my age, had died protecting her friends. She was a hero, she was brave, yet here I stood, people calling me brave, a hero. I killed the Minotaur; I'm some kind of super child, even in demigod terms. There was nothing super about that. That was anger and sadness mixed with adrenalin.

"That's so unfair," I hissed under my breath. "So, so, _so unfair._"

Grover sighed. "As unfair as it is, it's how this world works. If the gods don't like something or someone, they do something about it. It's the old ways, but they've stuck around for centuries, and I doubt they'll go away anytime soon. It's like having a very old relative who thinks girls shouldn't wear skirts that don't go down to their ankles."

Percy put a hand on my arm, rubbing his thumb, trying to stop my tears. I looked to him, trying to catch his eye to tell him I was okay, but he was looking off far into the distance, lost in thought.

"Have heroes really gone to the underworld," Percy asked, turning to Grover, determination in his eyes.

Grover nodded. "There have been some who have gotten in and out. Orpheus, Hercules, Houdini. They all came back unharmed. Physically at least."

"And has anyone been brought back from the dead? Has anyone came back out after death?"

"Orpheus came close, but…" Grover froze, and turned to look at Percy. "You're not really thinking—"

"I'm just curious," Percy said. But it didn't take the death grip on my arm to know he was lying. I stared at him intensely till he turned to me.

_Percy…_

_Not now, Cammie._

_Later, _I decided, turning back to Grover. "Are satyrs always assigned to demigods?"

Grover studied us, looking for any signs of lying. But we'd long since passed lying school (probably the only school we'll ever pass, even if it is fake.) and he couldn't tell a thing. "No, not always," he said finally. "We're usually assigned to a school first, then try and find anyone with unusual talents, or abilities. We try and sniff out their auras, and when we find one, we alert Chiron, and he decides from there. He keeps an eye on anyone who might even be suspected of being a demigod. They can cause lots of problems, as you know."

"Like World War II," I nodded.

"You found us," Percy said. "There for we have strong auras. Is Chiron thinking…"

"NO!" Grover yelled, but it sounded more like pleading. "That can't be—I don't believe your—you know what's. If you were, you wouldn't be able to leave camp, go on quests, do anything in the outside world. There'd be too many monsters after you, gods too. You two are probably children of Hermes, or a minor god like Nemesis, god of revenge. Don't worry about that kind of stuff."

Why is it that I have this odd feeling that he was reassuring himself more than us?

* * *

I was on the ground of cabin eleven in my sleeping bag, trying to find a comfortable position before the lights would go out, and we'd all have to sleep. A body fell next to mine, and I looked up, smiling at Roe. "What you got there, sunshine?"

She held up a wooden and wire object. "This is _Téleio Pláno_."

"_Téleio Pláno?" _I questioned. "Perfect shot?"

She shrugged. "Pretty much. It doesn't look like much now, because it's folded up. Here, give me a second." She sat up in her sleeping bag, and unfolded it. It was a dark mahogany wood bow with curves and lines carved in the sides, with silver wrapping in the middle, and a shiny pull back wire.

"It's beautiful," I muttered.

She pulled the string back, and suddenly an arrow was lined up, causing everyone in the line of fire to yelp and curse, moving away. "Don't be such babies!" she laughed. "It won't hit anyone." She turned to me and said, "It never misses. That's why it's called perfect shot. I'm fine with a bow and arrow as it is, but Chiron told me this has a spell on it which makes it so it's impossible to miss, as long as you know what it is you want to hit! It's a self-loading piece of awesome!"

"Can we try?" Percy and me asked at the same time.

The lights suddenly turned out. "Get to bed everyone!" Luke yelled.

"Tomorrow, I promise," Roe said.

I turned over, laying my head down on the lumpy pillow and closed my eyes. Tomorrow was capture the flag, a day I've been is the best of the week. Though I'm sure I won't enjoy it as much as everyone else.

* * *

**You have no idea how sorry I am that I haven't updated for a long time, but lack of motivation in school has left me with a pile of missing assignments, and horrible tests. Getting it back up has been a challenge, and I'm getting there. I'm sorry to say, that even when school is over, for half the summer, I'll be almost non-existent. I'll try and get a get you guys some chapters, but I can't promise anything.**


	9. chapter 8 part two

WE CAPTURE A FLAG—PART TWO

* * *

Tonight's dinner was hamburgers, hotdogs, and brats with French fries. It was good, but Cammie was shoveling it all in like it was her last meal.

"It might as well be!" Cammie growled at me. _Did I say that out loud?_

Cam looked up at me, confused. "What? No, you were just thinking it."

Roe looked at us. "You guys should really stop having halfway mind conversations. It really confuses the rest of us."

"Sometimes I wonder if they talk about us," Travis said dramatically.

I rolled my eyes. "No, I was just noticing how Cam was eating more than usual."

"Today is capture the flag," she frowned. "And based off how everything else is in this camp, I'd say that it's very possible that we might never see daylight again! Or food for that matter!"

I chuckled, shaking my head. Smiling, she threw a fry at me, which I caught in my mouth. Needless to say, today was a big day. Our first all camp game. And I had this gut feeling people were either going to ignore us all together or come straight for us, and see exactly what we were made of. One look at Clarisse's table made me lean towards the later.

"You'll do fine, I know it," Roe soothed. "If you guys just let your instincts take over, you'll be just as amazing as you were with those swords back in practice."

I shook my head again, feeling like she had said that a million times. Maybe she had.

I was just about to tell her as much when a conch horn sounded, and everyone got up to start clearing their plates. Everyone except for the Ares cabin, who jumped and hollered, waving a gaudy red flag with a boar smack dab in the middle of it. Once the plates were done with, everyone fallowed the Ares example and whooped and yelled all the way down to the field.

"Are those the flags?" I asked Luke, catching up to him.

He nodded. "Yep, Ares and Athena are leading today."

"Do they lead all the time?"

"No, but they do often."

"What do you do if another cabin captures the flag? Repaint it?"

He grinned down at me. The wound on his face reminded me of that one lion—Scar—from the lion king. "You sure do ask a lot of questions, don't you?"

_I'm sorry for being an inconvenience for you, _I thought. I spun around, suddenly noticing my sister was missing. _Cammie? Cam, where are you?_

The crowd parted for a split second, and I saw my sister running my way. I breathed a sigh of relief. Josh and Roe were right beside her, making it a bit harder to push through. "Don't get your panties in a twist, I'm right here!" she said as soon as she got close enough, shouting over the noise. "I was just getting the scoop from these two on the game."

"We're making a temporary alliance with the Athena cabin," Josh informed me. "Meaning we'll be going for the Ares flag."

"Athena allied with Hermes and Apollo," Roe added. "Ares with Dionysus, Demeter, Aphrodite, and Hephaestus."

It sounded fine. There were only two Dionysus kids, while athletic, didn't make me too worried about our chances. Aphrodite kids sat out of most activities and looked at their reflection. The Hephaestus kids were tall, ugly and strong. But there were only a couple of them, so I wasn't too scared. My fears only lay in the Ares cabin itself. There were a lot of them, and they were strong, and battle smart. I had seen what Clarisse could do. I could only imagine what Clarisse times fifty would be like. And I wasn't going to be imagining for very long.

"Heroes!" Chiron hollered, banging his hood. "Gather in!"

Kids rounded up, and silence followed. "You all know the rules: boundary line is the creek. The entire forest is fair game. You may use magic items; you may _not _kill or maiming. Prisoners may be disarm, but not bound or gagged. We will not have a replay of last time. I will be referee and medic. Play fair, and mainly enjoy yourself."

"No killing or maiming?" Cammie hissed at me. "What kind of camp _has these kinds o_f problems?!" I was wondering the same thing.

I looked back at the table, which was now filled with bronze armor. My jaw went slack. I only looked away for a second! How'd that all get there?

Luke came up to us, handing us both a helmet. "Chiron believes this will fit you guys. And here's a shield for the two of you. You get border patrol."

The shield that he gave us weighed a ton, and it was impossible to carry. "He has to be kidding," Cammie muttered.

I saw Annabeth in the front, and pointed her out to Cammie, so we ran to catch up. "Annabeth!" I yelled, coming up beside her, but she just ignored me.

"Blue team, onward!" she yelled. She gave me a quick look over, and told me, "You might want your helmet on, if you want to keep your head at least."

She started walking away, and I quickly pulling on my helmet, motioning for Cam to do the same. It had blue horse hair for the plume and the other team had red. Once again, we came up beside Annabeth. "So, mind telling me what we're supposed to do?" I asked, out of breath.

"What job did Luke give you?"

"Border patrol. What do we do?"

She shrugged. "Simple, stand by the creek, keep reds away, don't get hit by Clarisse's spear. You'll do fine if you fallow those simple rules." Then she started running, leaving us in the dust.

"Are you serious?" Cammie said, flabbergasted. "That's _all_? that's all she's going to say to us? where is this creek even? Huh? How are we supposed to find it. It's like she doesn't—"

"Cammie," I soothed, putting a hand on her shoulder. "It'll be fine. Don't worry."

"Yeah, don't worry. Pretend Clarisse isn't out there probably looking to run us through with a spear. A spear we were specifically told to stay clear of." She shook her head. "Can't we just sit out?"

I laughed. "Don't be a poor sport, Cammie."

Her head snapped my way. "I'm not a poor sport!" she protested, but I could see the hint of a smile on her face. "You're mean."

I bumped her with my shield. She bumped me back. I tried to trip her, and she hit my arm. "Stop it!" she laughed. "You're being a jerk!"

"I'm not a jerk, you're a jerk!" I bumped her again.

"Stop it!"

I was laughing hysterically now too, and it continued all the way down to the creek, which we had to ask directions for.

* * *

Cammie sat on a fallen tree stump, looking bored as ever. I stood up against a tree, cursing Luke for setting us up here. A few kids had run past into the other's boundary, but so far, no one came from the red team.

"When is this going to be over?" Cammie asked for the sixth time. I shrugged, sighing. Someone had said till a flag was captured, and I wouldn't be surprised if that went all night. You could hear swords meeting each other from all sides, and cries, and cheers. We seemed to be the only ones not having fun.

I was pushing a pebble around when I heard shuffling in the bushes. I didn't think much of it, thinking it was another Blue team player going for enemy lines, but when I heard Cammie yell, "Hey!" I knew it wasn't.

Grabbing my sword, I pointed it at the noise. There was laughter, and I saw some strange ugly guy holding my sister in a headlock.

"Ha, what you going to do with that, huh?" Clarisse said, stepping out from the woods. "Cut me? I bet you couldn't even scare a fly."

I gripped the handle tighter, wanting to fight, but knowing I might not be as lucky as last time we fought. Cammie was cursing, lots of words, about as colorful as a crayon box. A few others had popped out of the bushes now, and I knew they were all red team. They were ugly, so probably Ares campers.

"The flag is that way," I said, pointing the opposite direction of the flag. "Let my sister go, and fetch it."

Clarisse put a hand on her chin, as if thinking it over. "That's strange, I have no desire to go get the flag right now. Let's just mess with the twins here, shall we?" she asked her goon friends. They laughed, nodding. "I do believe that's a yes."

She tossed one of them a dagger. "Here, you two give her a haircut, we'll practice fighting with the other one."

Cammie struggled even more now, and I felt like vomiting. I couldn't get over there to stop them, yet here I was about to be pummeled. Still, I lifted my sword high, and gave a determined glare in their direction.

"OH NO!" Clarisse mocked. "He's going to fight back! I think we should leave now."

"That would be smart," Cammie yelled. "Get out of here you cowered!"

That turned Clarisse around in a second. "What did you call me, pipsqueak."

"Cowered! You're a cowered!"

Knowing she wasn't handling this well at all, I ran at Clarisse full speed, jumping on her back. Surprisingly she fell. Not surprisingly, she got up a second later, and gave me a good kick to the side. I groaned, rolling. Another kick came, and another. They could have kicked me into a nice fine Percy pudding, hand Clarisse not said, "Stop!"

I didn't exactly think she had a change of heart.

"I wanna try something," she snarled.

Knew it.

_Percy get up! _Cammie yelled in my head. _The spear is electric!_

_WHAT!?_

_Roll to the right!_

I did as I was told, and a spear tip landed right next to my head. And it had sparks dancing along it's metal head. _Are you serious!?_

_Are you okay? _ I asked Cammie.

_Do not worry about me, idiot, worry about the spear coming for you!_

I got up quickly, and stumbled across the opening. Clarisse was right on my tail. "Stop moving you little bug!" she laughed, and this time hit me square in the chest. I felt a burning sting all along my body.

"Percy!" I heard Cammie yell, but I couldn't lift my head to look. "Get up, get up now!"

I heard struggling and opened my eyes to see Cammie dodging one of the guys punches and the other's sword. This made me flash back to all our years of school. me laying down on the ground while she kicked, punched, and bit the bullies, distracting them. It made me angry that nothing had changed when we came here. Didn't the gods think it was time to give us a break?

I jumped up, and started for them, but was pushed into the creek. A sword came down by my arm, leaving a sizable cut. I head a splash a few feet away, and saw them holding Cam's face in the water. "Let's see if she's like a fish!" one guy laughed. "Look at her! Flailing around like one too!"

_CAMMIE!_

_Percy…_

It was like back at practice, suddenly I felt strong, and I picked up my sword, hopping to my feet, filled with new energy.

"What of 'no maiming' did you idiots not comprehend?" I said through grinded teeth. "I know you're not very bright but I didn't think you were that stupid."

They glowered at me. "You know it was your moronic attitude that got you into this mess. You made us look like fools!"

"You do it well enough on your own," I said. I didn't wait for a reply. I swung my sword at Clarisse's upright spear, cutting it in two. She started down at it for a second, then hissed at me.

"You corps-breath worm!" she bellowed.

"Would you just shut up!?" I yelled, swinging at the guy beside her. he fell back, taken off guard, and I looked to Cammie. She had regained her composure, grabbing the back of the guys breastplate, and pulling him over her and into the creek. He fell in with a cry. Cam's head popped up, but she didn't waste time on taking a breath. She was snarling, and punching the guy right in the eye, turning around to do the same to the other.

There was suddenly cheering, and for a second I thought it was for us. Then I saw Luke running across the boundary line, red flag in hand.

"It was a set up!" a boy yelled. "They set us up!"

_We were bait._

Everyone came out of the forest, half cheering, other half pouting. I walked to Cammie, examining where her hair was being pulled. "It's red," I told her.

"I'll live," she said.

"You guys were great," Annabeth's voice said behind me. I turned, but she wasn't there. Then the air shimmered, and there she stood, a Yankee's cap in hand, and a smile on her face. But I wasn't smiling.

"Thanks," I spit, turning around, and pulling Cammie with me. Chiron blew the horn, signaling the game was over.

"Hey, what's wrong," Annabeth asked, sounding confused.

"Oh, I don't know," I said sarcastically. "Maybe it was that you set us up to get pounded."

"You guys did—"

"Maybe it was that you were there the entire time but didn't think to step in and help."

"Percy…" Cammie said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"Maybe because my sister was almost drowned and you, again, did nothing!"

"She's fine though!" Annabeth protested. "And so are you!

"That might not be enough the next time you decide to use us as bait. I know you're a daughter of Athena, goddess of wisdom and battle strategy. You got battle strategy down pat, but maybe not the wisdom part." I again started walking away, pulling Cam behind me.

"Percy that was harsh," she said softly.

I looked back at her. "You almost drowned."

"I was fine."

"What happened," Josh said, coming up to us. "Why were you fighting with Annabeth?"

"Did you know?" I asked. "Did you know they set us up as bait?"

Roe ran up too. "What? No! Did you Josh?"

He shook his head, stunned. "Luke wouldn't do that to you guys. It must have been the Athena cabin's idea."

I hadn't even thought of Luke. He sent us there. Annabeth didn't know until we told her. he had to of.

"I'm sure he didn't," Cammie said, saying to me, _let it go, Percy. It's his brother, he won't believe you._

I knew he wouldn't but still, I wanted to yell and scream and possibly maim one of _them._ But one look at Cam told me that it wasn't the time.

Josh helped Cammie out of the water, and suddenly, she was in his arms, looking shocked and tired. I rushed out to see what was wrong, but I fell down two, landing on my front. Roe grabbed my bad arm, helping me up. I expected to feel pain.

"Didn't you get cut there?" she asked, studding me.

"Yeah," I nodded. Was that why I was so dizzy?

"Well, why isn't it there anymore?"

I looked down, about to call her crazy. But she was right. It was gone. I looked to Cammie, who was still in Josh's arms.

"Percy! Cammie! Run!" Annabeth yelled from across the opening, pointing at something behind us. Josh and Roe wheeled back, and Josh tried to pull Cam with him, but her hand slipped, and she was on the ground once more. I grabbed her arm and spun, just as a red eyed black hound the size of a fat rhino jumped on us, tearing at our armor.

"_Di Immortals! My bow!_" Chiron yelled.

The pain was so great, I didn't feel it till after a million arrows sprouted out of the beast's neck, and it fell to a dead heap at my feet.

_Blood, blood…_ I didn't know who thought it, me or Cammie, but one of us did, and we were panicked about the amount. Cam, having been pushed behind me, got the least of the wounds. I was glad. That's all I could think. _I'm glad she's okay._

Chiron came right up to us, his face worried, and grim.

"That was a hellhound from the fields of punishment!" Annabeth yelled. "Chiron, you know what this means!?"

"Someone summoned it into the camp," he said, ignoring her.

"They did it!" Clarisse yelled. "They summoned it!"

"Silence, Clarisse!" Chiron scolded.

"Get in the water you two," Annabeth said.

"What?" I asked, forgetting I was mad at her.

"Get in the water now! Chiron, watch this." She then pushed us in, and instantly I felt better. Like all my wounds and cuts were mending together. And when I looked down, I saw that they actually where!

Everyone was crowding around, watching, whispering among themselves. Suddenly they all gasped in horror.

"I'm sorry," I said, apologizing. I didn't know why, but it felt right. "I'm so sorry—"

But they weren't looking at our wounds. They were looking over our heads. I turned, waiting for another hell hound attack, but only caught a glimpse at something shimmering over my head. I looked down at the reflation in the creek, and saw a glimmering green light above my head. A three tipped spear.

"A trident," Cammie muttered.

"This isn't good, this isn't good at all," Annabeth groaned. "Your father…"

"Our father?" I asked weakly. I looked to Cammie.

Then everyone started bowing. Even the Ares kids.

"Poseidon," said Chiron. "Earthshaker, Stormbringer, Father of Horses. Hail Perseus and Cameron Jackson, children of the Sea God."

* * *

**I have to say I'm really happy I got this up. After two nights of nonstop writing whenever I had free time, driven off of hot coco, oatmeal bars, Herbert my cow statue, and Pringles alone, it was hard to get done. It took me 6 hours. But it was worth it. If you didn't notice already, Percy is very protective of Cammie, a characteristic I see him having. He doesn't like bullies and will stand up to them whenever for a random stranger, I just imagine that the tiniest of threats towards Cam would set him hopping. Josh will be a side character for this story, and upcoming ones too. I don't hate Josh, I don't think he's the guy for Cam, but I don't' hate him. He wasn't really explained, character wise, and I have a lot to build off of there. If it seems I'm being too hard of Annabeth right now, I assure you, it will get better for her. Anyway, can't wait to hear back from you all. I'm thinking of having a Youtube channel for all my author notes and other fanfiction type things, but I want to make sure people will actually watch it first, or if it's even something you're mildly interested in. It won't be all author notes, there will be other stuff I'll put up, like trailer and such. Anyway just give me your impute, and have a wonderful day ****J**


	10. not taking this down!

**THIS IS NOT AN URGENT AUTHORS NOTE SAYING IM GIVING UP THIS STORY. COMPRENDE? _NOT_ GIVING IT UP! THIS IS JUST SOMETHING I WANT YOUR GUYS' FEED BACK ON!**

**now that we're out of the caps lock zone, here's what I got to ask you guys. so I've been thinking lately, and I was wondering:**

**if I made a YouTube channel completely devoted to fan fiction, would you guys watch?**

**I want you guys to be honest here, 'cause I don't want to make a channel and have no one watch what's going up. I plan on putting a lot of time and sweat in ****this and I don't want it to all be for nothing. I've already mentioned this on one of my stories and got a yes, so I'm curious about everyone else's thoughts on it.**

**the idea of the channel is to make trailers for upcoming fan fictions of mine, do summaries of the books I base my stories off of so if you need to catch up or don't want to read it you can just watch and are all set. I'll do trailers for book I've liked and rant on things I haven't liked in books. the channel will also be for all the little fic parts I've written in my little notebook, but never think I'll fallow up on. **

**if you think you'll watch, let me know, and you don't think so, say no or don't comment at all. if you think of things you might like me to do if I start this channel, PM me, and i'll let you know if i'm up for it. if I get a bunch of deffenet yes's i'll do it.**

**thanks for all who actually read this, and i'm looking forward to your feedback. i'll take this down once I get an answer**


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